


The Divide Between

by Townycod13



Category: South Park
Genre: F/M, M/M, beta'd by the amazing panaceaa, i swear to fucking god, this fucking meme, too long to put on tumblr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-27
Updated: 2018-05-25
Packaged: 2019-04-28 12:23:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 21,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14449212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Townycod13/pseuds/Townycod13
Summary: written for a meme-thing on tumblr. entirely self-indulgent and dumb.





	1. Through Green Eyes

"--do you swear to love one another, till death do you part?"

A stranger. A strange setting.

"I do."

Well, it could have been worse, he supposed. His bride wasn't weeping. He didn't know if he'd be able to hold in his own discontent if hers was on display.

"I do." he replied.

A pledge to love one another.

He reminded himself it was for the better good. Whatever sort of person Princess McCormick was, whatever horrible fate he'd just signed away, it would lead to peace.

He was just tired of war.

There was a part of him that wished she'd been upset or angry. The expression behind her veil looked serene, at peace. She was ever the picture perfect princess.

"You may kiss the bride."

The veil felt heavier to lift than it should be. He knew it was actually just his own reluctance to do so.

Her eyes were impossibly large and her smile was still so frustratingly perfect.

He froze up. He didn't know this woman. He didn't _know this person_. What was he going to do, kissing a stranger in front of an audience like this? Pledging to love her? Spending the rest of their days together?

He couldn't do it. His body remained frozen in place for just a second too long. He could hear the beginnings of a rabble in the audience.

Her body moved swifter than he thought possible and he felt two gloved figures on his lips before she invaded his vision, eyes an intense command for silence.

He felt her kiss her own figures, the rest of her hand blocking the scene from the audience.

A fake kiss.

A fake kiss at a loveless wedding.

It was perhaps in that moment that he realized fully what kind of marriage he was to have.

And that the Princess of the humans was not to be taken lightly.

\---

There's his target.

Kyle's eyes narrowed on the blurry image he used as his phones background. A constant reminder that the man needed to be caught, detained, and charged to the full extent of the law.

He would capture Mysterion.

No matter the cost.

The police scanner gabbled to life and he knew it was time to move. It was his luck that the case had become one that garnered federal interest.

It was also terrifying.

He needed to be the one to capture the caped crusader. He couldn’t risk letting anyone else do it.

He still didn’t quite expect to pin Mysterion to the edge of the rooftop so early in his investigation.

“Give it up, Mysterion! I have you cornered and the building is surrounded. You have no where to run.”

The was something mysteriously deceptive in the up curve of his lips, “Is that a fact, Detective?”

“Special agent.” Kyle ground out with more force than strictly necessary.

“Really? Feds?” for a moment something akin to actual surprise crossed what could be seen of his shadowed face, “What has you guys on my tail?”

“That cartel you took down. Last month.” Kyle knew he shouldn’t be providing this information but there was something dangerous in the way Mysterion was edging towards the end of roof. He needed to keep the other talking. Interested.

“Hm…” the sound was thoughtful and almost light before it darkened back into his signature growl, “That only creates more question, Special Agent. But I don’t have the time tonight, maybe another time.”

“Wait-!” Kyle’s heart jumped into his throat, “How are you planning to escape? Are you going to jump to your death?”

“Why should you care? If I were to pass away wouldn’t that conclude your investigation?”

Mysterion was sharper than Kyle wanted him to be.

“ _I’m_ going to capture you.”

Perhaps that was answer enough because there was almost a lilt of intrigue in the final words, “I look forward to it.”

And he tipped over the edge of the roof, disappearing into the night.

\---

He had not once seen his wife in any state less than perfectly clothed.

That actually suited Kyle just fine. He didn’t particular know what he would have done if she’d thrown herself at him on day one. It wasn’t particularly this state of affairs that bothered him but rather that in the large halls of his home, he rarely saw any of her at all.

There was the royal chamber but she was always so carefully awake before him and often departed before he’d even awoken.

There were the court dinners but she had an impressive diplomacy of avoiding conversation with him at all. Favoring chitter with his guards or the maids.

There were of course public events but the distance between them seemed so perfectly calculated to ensure that the audience was reassured but she herself didn’t have any personal favoritism towards him.

It should have been the ideal marriage. Exactly what he could have hoped for out a political bond like this. She was perfect in public and distant in private. He could recall very distinctly hoping for such a result back in the beginnings of this.

Something didn’t sit well in his stomach about it though. They were _married_ , they were supposed to spend the rest of their lives together, and Kyle would be hard-pressed to tell anyone a single aspect of his wife that was not already clear to the public at large.

Their shared quarters also offered a shared restroom and the thought struck him despite himself.

Delicately and with only a trace of magic to allow the marks to last long enough for viewing, he placed a simple question into the mirror.

_How are you?_

\---

There was a box on his desk with a signed card. He nearly threw the entire thing away at the sight of a _?_ in lieu of a name.

It could have evidence though so he went through the proper procedures to have it checked for fingerprints, any DNA evidence, any sign of the vigilantes true identity.

Discreetly, of course, he didn’t want to allow anyone else to know his progress. No one else could be trusted.

To his surprise the package did have fingerprints on it that matched in the system.

The inside of the box held a simple hardback novel.

He explored every detail of the fingerprinted match and even went so far as to look into the novel. It was a fantasy allegory of gang war.

And the thread that he pulled on with the fingerprint led him to the take down of a prominent gang, at the verge of war.

“Very funny.” He offered the shadow that appeared on his balcony, reaching in what he hoped was a discreet way for some handcuffs.

“I thought so.” The vigilante returned, all smarm.

“If you pull that shit again, I’m shooting you.”

There was a pause and the shadow read the truth in his face, “Okay.” He finally said, voice deep with a sort of sincerity.

The next time he entered work there was a file on his desk rather than the elaborate trap of clues. Kyle grit his teeth.

“Not exactly what I meant.” He said to no one in particular.

\---

The back and forth lasted for longer than he’d expected, if he was entirely honest. A part of him had expected to be snubbed and ignored.

She was fun. Witty. Interesting.

Still strangely elusive but he could live with that for now.

Today he stared at her latest response at a loss for words. The words themselves, _I’d like to see you try, Kingy_ , weren’t all that surprising. It was her normal challenging tone and normal twirl of letters.

What bothered him was the way his stomach did a loopty-loop at the sight of them.

It occurred to him for the first time that he might actually develop romantic feelings for his wife. A concept that he hadn’t thought possible previously for a large variety of reasons.

It also occurred to him in that same gut-wrenching moment that she might not feel the same way. She may never feel the same.

He might fall head over heels for her and she could just as easily remain ambivalent to him. The thought caused him to storm away from the mirror, unable to conceive of a response.

How could he continue this exchange knowing that it could result in disaster fort them both? She had been correct when she avoided him in the beginning, why hadn’t he just let that be?

He spent more time than he cared to admit to sitting in the garden. It was his personal space where no one would dare disturb him and he could do the closest kingly approximation of pouting possible without the prying eyes of others.

A delicate disruption in the grass informed him of her approach.

“Didn’t see your response.” Her voice was light, carried by the wind, gentle and clear.

He wondered how many times he’d heard her speak. He could probably count it on a single hand.                                                  

“I… don’t think this is a good idea.” He wasn’t going to look at her. She’d probably become hopeful for a budding friendship with her new life partner.

“What’s going to work?” Her voice was cautious, there was an edge he couldn’t place.

Kyle deliberated his options. He could probably spin the truth to avoid having to admit to a thing. He could easily wave his power over her, knowledgeable that in his own kingdom she held no political sway outside of what he granted her.

Lies had a way of winding back to their masters with a bite and displays of intimidation and tyranny had a knack for ending in beheadings.

Honesty then.

“You were right, when you first arrived, to avoid me. If—I fear that if we grow closer I may grow overly affectionate.”

He felt a burn in his cheeks but he still wouldn’t look at her. She must be disgusted with him. Of course, she would avoid him after this.

At least it would be a reprieve from the build in his heart.

The crunch of grass disrupted his thought and before his ears could register approaching or departing, delicate lips traced his still warm cheek.

“Silly, King.” She chided, “You make it sound like that’s a bad thing.”

\---

Mysterion was dying.

Kyle’s eyes couldn’t quite understand the vision being offered to him.

Mysterion, terror of the wicked and working outside the law, was bleeding out in his arms. Kyle could barely breathe.

He wasn’t even here on an official capacity. He’d just been near enough to hear the gunshots.

“Hah—“ Mysterions sardonic laugh was cut short by a choke of blood. “What brings you here, Special Agent?”

“Shh…” Kyle’s eyes weren’t burning. This wasn’t supposed to happen. He was supposed to capture Mysterion and keep him _safe_ . Whatever the stupid, _stupid_ crime fighter had upset went deep, too deep for Kyle to fight alone.

It was inevitable that he would be captured and if that happened Kyle was sure there would be an ‘accident’.

This wasn’t supposed to happen like this.

“Why are you crying?”

He was a full grown man, damnit, why did this destroy him so completely?

“I told you to be quiet.” Kyle rasped, “You’re going to die. You—“

Kyle’s heart stopped. Mysterion wasn’t moving. Wasn’t breathing.

Was this it?

“No.”

He grit his teeth.

“Goddamnit, _no_ , you stupid idiot.”

He didn’t think before he leaned forward, lips gently brushing against the blood coating the deceased.

A gasp of air filled the lungs of the caped crusader and Kyle tried to see past the cloud of tears in his eyes.

“That’s a way to wake up.”

Kyle didn’t recognize this voice. It didn’t have any of Mysterion’s darkness.

It sounded like sunshine.

And then as suddenly as he’d heard the voice his arms were light and the man was gone.

Mysterion had died in his arms and in the same way, he had trouble understanding if he’d ever seen anyone in the dark alleyway.

\---

The princess was a tactile creature he was learning. A brush of her fingertips here, a supportive pat there, and on occasion she would lean against him while they talked about anything and nothing.

He’d never quite been around someone quite like it. His own brother was the stand-offish sort and his parents belabored under the belief that kindness fostered weakness.

Prior to this the most he’d ever felt in the way of human contact was the firm hand of his bodyguard and closest friend, protecting and guiding.

That was perhaps the reason that he hadn’t expected the sound that escaped his lips when she brushed her fingers to his side.

“ _Oh_?” He most certainly didn’t like the hint of mischief in her voice, a smile curling on her lips as her fingers not so innocently danced across his sides again.

He yelped.

Oh, heavens above, the princess had finally found a weakness and if he knew her as well as he felt he did, it could prove entirely fatal.

It already felt quite fatal as she began her assault, fingers dancing across his clothes to elicit every possible sound.

It was almost worth dying though, for the look of unguarded peace that was finally on her features.

\---

“Turn yourself in. I’ll protect you.”

“I can’t do that.”

He needed to start setting traps on his balcony. Maybe he could predict a pattern to the vigilante’s visits and have a trap waiting.

Somehow he didn’t think it would work but he still considered more than one entertaining plan. A few involved giant nets.

“Why do you do this?” Kyle couldn’t understand him. Clearly the man cared about the city, about keeping people safe, about putting a stop to evil. Clearly this was a person that wanted to create a real difference.

So why wouldn’t he just join the academy and work with the law instead of against it?

“Someone has to.”

Something was wrong, Kyle realized, the gruff sound of Mysterion’s voice sounded stilted, strained like he’d never heard it before.

“You’re injured!” he gasped before he could stop himself.

“I’m _fine_.”

Looking closer Kyle could see the steady drip of blood falling onto his balcony. DNA evidence that could be used to identify the man.

There was no use identifying him if he _died_ , Kyle berated himself.

“Come in. I’ll treat you.”

Yeah, that was about the look Kyle was expecting in response to the ludicrous offer.

He cut Mysterion off before the man could say something biting, “I won’t try to capture you. You know I’m a man of my word. Come in, you’re going to bleed out at that rate.”

To his surprise, the shadow complied. Shuffling suspiciously into the apartment with a tension that was probably permanently scarred into his shoulders.

Kyle assessed the best way to approach this without revealing more than Mysterion was willing to. The last thing he needed was the idiot jumping out the window with that kind of injury and falling to his death on the concrete below because Kyle lifted his mask.

Mysterion didn’t waste much time in lifting the armored cloth around his torso. There were deep and more importantly dirty gashes across his abs.

“We’re going to need to clean those. Come with me.”

The showers seemed only logical a few minutes ago, when he was cleaning the cuts and rinsing away the blood.

It seemed only logical until he looked up and saw the mans eyes assessing him.

He’d never been close enough to see a color. He didn’t think he’d seen a truer blue in his entire life.

The water from the showerhead had already splashed about in the cleaning attempts and they were both a bit more wet than intended. In that moment, he’d never understand why it was so mesmerizing to watch as a single droplet moved down his face.

Over the curve of his cheeks, grazing the side of his nose, tickling the edge of his lips, and falling from a strong jaw.

Kyle couldn’t say who closed the distance.

He couldn’t say a lot of things.

He knew his job was forfeit at this point if he didn’t stop and start behaving sanely.

He also knew that there was something distinctly desperate in the way Mysterion clung to him and it was all he could conceive of.

\---

She had begun bringing him lunches when meetings ran long. Simple things she’d picked up from the kitchens along with a slice or two of gossip she’d chittered about with the maids.

It was nice. That warm feeling that had been building for months and months now felt like it would overflow at the sight of her.

She tended to linger, before and after, just a bit. Seemingly inattentive but he’d grown close enough to recognize the alert sparkle in her eye that spoke of something entirely different.

She was paying attention. She was paying attention to everything, he realized. From the smallest and weakest individuals in the castle to those that held the most power. She was efficient as well, any task that might have somehow landed in her seemingly fragile lap was completed terrifying speed and efficacy.

He didn’t quite know if he feared that aspect of her or loved it. As time passed it grew into a mixture of both.

If the princess so chose she could probably fell his entire country, even without first earning his love and affections.

Whether or not that was her hearts desire was yet to be determined so instead he watched.

She could either be his greatest love or his most frightening opponent. It remained to be seen.

\---

He reasoned with himself that Mysterion ought to know he would do this. Intimacy or no intimacy that may or may not have occurred in a moment of weakness, it was still his job to capture the man.

The reasoning should ease his guilt. It didn’t.

Though honestly at this point he was sincerely wondering if he’d been somehow duped again.

He couldn’t tell anyone why he wanted the blood work done. He would have to explain too much and he still couldn’t trust who was clean and who was dirty.

But the man he was looking at could not possibly be Mysterion. He’d had his doubts even when he’d first received the confirmation and background check.

“Be careful on the way home, Suzy! And don’t forget your homework!”

“I won’t, Mr. McCormick!”

The man in front of him waved cheerfully to the departing child, gathering himself and cleaning various parts of the playground outside the small daycare center.

He was blond. Sunlight danced on his hair and freckles touched his cheeks. He had a clear and smooth voice that comforted children and an easy posture that spoke of a true carelessness that seemed contagious.

Who _was_ this man? He couldn’t possibly be the shadow that Kyle had been chasing for months now.

Finally the eyes lit onto him and he was surprised at the bright blue. That same color.

There was no recognition there though. He only looked mildly puzzled.

“Sir?” he called and Kyle realized how creepy he must look standing a distance from a daycare with his eyes locked onto the lone caretaker, “May I help you?”

He had to have been fooled somehow. Mysterion must have thought ahead and switched out the blood work with some random schmuck in the dead of night.

Kyle wracked his brain for an excuse, approaching the school anxiously, “Uh, I’m—I’m looking for a daycare for my nephew. I was wondering if you could show me around? I want to make sure it’s the right fit.”

That could work. Kyle internally thanked Ike for having a son.

“Absolutely!” there didn’t appear to be even a shadow of dishonesty in the mans eyes, a hand was thrust forward enthusiastically, “I’m Kenny McCormick, a teacher here.”

“Kyle Broflovski.” Kyle returned carefully, still caught up in the eyes.

He was _sure_ this Kenny couldn’t be Mysterion… but he should investigate fully before determining an answer.

He wasn’t expecting to find Kenny just as enrapturing as he did Mysterion.

He definitely wasn’t expecting the conflicting emotions that would follow.

All he felt was the anxiety of the situation weighing down on him as he was shown around every room of the small building.

\---

Curses were not unfamiliar to his ears or eyes. He’d heard of a few in his time.

He never wanted to see such vile things touch the woman that still held such mystery to him.

He’d recognized the insignia on the tiny creature as it scattered across his floor much too late. It was making a direct beeline for his wife in the privacy of their bathroom.

He didn’t dare even think before giving chase. Her privacy was less important than her safety in that instant.

If she didn’t know—

His lips barely worked out her name as he slammed the bathroom door open.

“ _Karen_!”

It was all a sight.

The spider was dead in its path, the figure of his undressed princess unthinkingly murdering it.

The spiders curse began to wrap, like tendrils, around her body and he suddenly understood just why he’d never seen her without layers of respectable clothes. Why she never allowed the servants to be bothered helping her change.

His feelings on the matter were secondary to the slide of the curse. Her eyes were bright and for the first time since he’d met her, fearful.

“Kyle?”

And in an instant, she was taken into the darkness, a strange and dark creature replacing her.

\---

He’d had too much to drink.

In his defense, it was his night off and he was out with friends and he should be able to consume as much as he’d like so long as he didn’t drive home.

He’d had too much to drink and he couldn’t even recognize the shadow that appeared on his balcony.

He didn’t know how he felt.

“Mysterion?” Or was it Kenny? He wanted it to be Kenny. He wanted them to be the same person because it seemed impossible but if they were it meant he wasn’t trapped between two impossibly strong emotions.

There was only a groan in reply and Kyle wondered if he was dreaming, stumbling out of his room and to the bleeding mass of fabric on his living room floor.

“What are doing here?” he slurred, “Why can’t you leave me alone or just turn yourself in?”

“I don’t know.” The deathly figure replied.

“Are you going to die? You can’t die, not again,” how drunk was he? Mysterrion had never died, “Are you Kenny? Please don’t be Kenny. I really like Kenny. I don’t want to arrest Kenny.”

The mass chuckled, a gentle hand brushing his hair out of his face, “How much did you drink, Special Agent?”

“I like you too and it’s confusing and it sucks. You suck,. You _totally_ suck. I hate you. No, I don’t. I think I love you.” Kyle gasped, trying to focus on the person in front of him, “Oh my god, I love you. How is that possible?”

“It’s not,” Mysterion assured gently.

“But I also love Kenny. Why can’t you guys be the same?”

“I thought you didn’t want us to be?” his voice was strained more and more by the moment. Like the injuries were proving fatal.

“I don’t know. I don’t know.” Kyle wanted to cry, “Just don’t die. Please don’t die.”

It was about then that Kyle realized his drink must have also been spiked with acid because actual tendrils of darkness were surrounding the interloper.

“What the fu—“ Mysterion’s words were cut off as the darkness consumed him completely.

In his place sat an actual princess.

“…the fuck?” Kyle finished for the departed, deciding that napping would be better than deciphering exactly how much LSD must have been lacing his drink.

  



	2. Chapter 2

Some silences are lasting and significant, Information shared without speech or sound. A private world between two individuals and an understanding that only quiet moments can share.

This particular instance was none of those things. First there were the sounds of generalized confusion and scandal, an ornate dress being gathered up to cover a flat chest, slurred exclamations, and the dizzying sensation of vomiting.

When Kyle had retched up what was hopefully all the LSD he must have consumed he felt a touch more sober but the blond dude in a princess dress was still sitting in his living room so clearly further detox was necessary.

When he recovered from round two of uncontrollable dizzy vomiting, he vaguely felt the hesitant hand of a stranger running circles on his back.

He looked up into shockingly blue eyes and had to seriously question if three different people all had that same shade.

The facial structure looked like Kenny though. It couldn’t be, why would Kenny be in his living room wearing an elaborate princess dress?

“…Kenny?” he tried, half hopeful because Kenny doing a tasteless prank was slightly better than a stranger or hallucinations.

Her—his?—The princess’ eyes widened and she retracted her hand like she had had been burned, “How do you know my name?!”

He couldn’t consider the question, he was too caught on the words. It was English, sure as rain, but the sound was so strange. Like a foreign accent but not one he’d ever heard. It sounded old and curving, words pronounced with meaning in each syllable.

It was the strangest sound he had ever heard.

“You… you’re Kenny?” his addled brain finally caught up and he looked at his hands, finding them a disturbing shade of red, his mind halted and sobriety finally brightened some of his thoughts, “Where’s Mysterion?!”

She still held a cautious distance between them, eyes taking in the room critically but never quite leaving him to his own devices. She was alert in a way he couldn't place but still, her head cocked to the side in some confusion, “Who’s Mysterion?”

Kyle stood up, sudden and determined, Mysterion was hurt, badly, whoever this weirdo was could wait. Or wait, was it Kenny?

Shit.

How much  _ did _ he drink?

Foggily he could hear his own mind call out  _ timber _ as his body began its collapse. A slew of mental math running through his brain as he descended.

No food, drinking too much, vomiting excessively, probably drugged, standing up suddenly, and emotional stress.

Yep.

He was just gonna go to sleep for a hot second.

Kenny, or the weird princess version of Kenny with the freaky accent, could find his or her own way out.

\--

He could faintly taste vomit but he couldn’t smell it and that struck him as strange.

His head was throbbing and he figured that was an inevitability. He might swear off alcohol for good after this.

Now he had to determine whether or not he was really visited by a vigilante and a—princess?—in the dead of night or if that was all a bizarre dream. It  _ felt _ like a bizarre dream. He wasn’t face down on his living room floor though. He could feel the familiar cushions of his on bed beneath him.

So it was probably a dream?

“You’re awake.”

Ah. There was no mistaking that distinct and strange accent. Kyle pried open his eyes and decided on his methodology for approaching the day.

Game face time. Get answers, withhold emotion, accept facts.

Kyle had a pretty reliable premonition that the second choice would be difficult in these circumstances. He would just have to do his best.

He sat up against his bedpost before taking in the sight of his room.

It was in a distressingly normal state, aside from the princess sitting primly by his bed in a chair she must have taken from his kitchen. His bedside table held a few books he hadn’t removed from his shelf and in her hands she held the very same fantasy novel that Mysterion had given him what felt like ages ago.

Her eyes were silent and sharp. He took the time to assess her character.

He wasn’t sticky, she’d clearly cleaned him up a bit before carrying him to bed. She had to have significant upper body strength to have dragged his dead weight up here. There was no blood or vomit and she’d stripped him of most of his clothes. She was reading.

That particular part struck him the most.

She was strange in a way that he couldn’t name. He knew by sight she was human, or at least humanoid, but there was something unearthly about her. It wasn’t just her accent. Seeing her now in the light of the early afternoon cinched it.  There was something...peculiar about her. She looked for all the world somewhat natural, yet something was off, almost uncanny, that Kyle couldn't quite put his finger on.

She was reading because she was the sort to want to know things. Her selection of books didn’t look like ones picked for entertainment, fantasy novel aside, many were textbooks from his time in university. Many were historical biographies.

The fantasy novel had been one already sitting on his bedside table and he realized that was probably the only reason she’d selected it.

He refrained from making his final assessments on her, a choice between otherworldly or escaped mental patient, until he had more information. Making hasty assumptions led to mistakes in the field.

“Who are you?”

She smiled, such a perfect upturn of lips that he couldn’t believe could possibly be genuine, and her voice gently coated the room like magic, “Princess Karen McCormick of Kupa Keep.”

It felt like she’d cut the formal introduction short, despite it being longer than most introductions ought to be, and more so as though some information was altered. He trusted his gut on this.

Kyle nodded slowly and held out his hand, “Special agent Kyle Broflovski of the F.B.I.” Two could do lengthy introductions.

An emotion flickered across her face but was masked instantaneously. He realized that while ‘Karen’ was probably a nutjob, she also had the gameface of a seasoned politician.

Kyle thought about the name. He’d swear he’d heard that name before… his eyes widened, “Are you Kenny’s younger sister?”

Kenny hadn’t mentioned the girl was a nutjob. An otherworldly, uncanny weirdo convinced that she was a princess.

The princess held his gaze a long moment, considerations passing, and a sigh escaping her lips.

Finally she came to a decision.

“No.”

Kyle waited, anticipating some form of follow up information. One didn’t think about how to answer a question like that unless the answer was more complicated than one syllable.

She didn’t look away but she looked less comfortable than she had previously. Less comfortable in her own skin. She didn’t want to clarify further.

He made a decision there. Interrogations went smoother when the suspect was compliant. Buying himself a bit of goodwill could ultimately serve his purposes.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to explain.” Yet, he knew she heard the unspoken syllable. “What would you prefer I call you?”

He had expected the relief in her posture. He hadn’t expected the almost open smile that lit up her face.

If this mystery princess wasn’t related to Kenny in some way, he’d eat his own foot. He’d seen that smile far too many times to discount.

“You really are almost just like him.” she giggled, “Such a serious boy.”

“Excuse me?”

She steeled her posture, opened her mouth, and was interrupted by the loud rumbling of her own stomach.

Such a dainty little thing, he expected her to show embarrassment, instead she pat the offending body part as if to request its silence, and continued onward, “Call me Kenny.”

“Okay, Kenny. I’m going to need some more answers,”  _ so many more answers, holy shit _ , “But for now, let’s grab something to eat?”

“Truly, a gentlemen,” she snarked like it was a natural thing to do and he was immediately reminded of Kenny’s method of teasing. “That would be lovely, thank you.”

Getting up would have sucked more with the headache that was still assaulting his sensibilities, but she was helping him up and he decided against discouraging it. Developing some reciprocity between them now could only serve his search for answers.

Kyle half expected the living room he walked into to be cleaned. Still, the fact that she actually had cleaned up his entire mess was somewhat troubling. What sort of person was she?

“Omelets sound good?”

She smiled blankly from where she was repositioning his chair at the table, “Whatever you would like.”

Yeah. It didn’t sound like she knew what an omelet was.

He sighed as he took out the eggs. He really wanted her to be Kenny’s nutjob identical twin younger sister that had broken into his apartment because reasons.

He had the sneaking suspicion that he hadn’t imagined the tendrils of darkness dragging Mysterion to  _ god knows where _ and that the princess he was about to make breakfast for might just be Kenny.

Just, a different Kenny. From somewhere else. God. He did  _ not _ like that option at all.

“So who was it you said I remind you of?” Small talk. Get her talking. The more she spoke the more she would inadvertently reveal, politician or not.

She was seated at the table, still flipping through the book from earlier and balancing her chin in the palm of her hand, “The King of the Drow Elves.”

Huh, should have expected more royalty. He hadn’t.

“We’re similar? He sounds pretty important.”

He wasn’t looking at her but he could hear amusement in her voice, “I would consider you parallel to him, yes.”

“He also vomits uncontrollably in the middle of the night?”

She snorted, it was the least ladylike sound he’d heard from her, and the following laugh sounded from the belly, “No, I can’t say he’s done that in my presence.”

“You know him well?”

She hummed, “He’s my husband.”

Kyle really didn’t mean to drop an egg onto the ground. Tracing exactly what about her statement he’d found so troubling would be somewhat impossible but in the medley of swirling emotions that were unsettling his stomach and hurting his head, he was able to grasp onto one thing that was the most troubling of all.

He believed her.

For whatever crazy reason, and despite all his attempts to talk common sense into the situation, a part of him completely believed this was Kenny McCormick from some bizarro world.

Which also had implications of her having replaced Mysterion of all people. Implications he didn’t want to consider.

He reminded himself to keep his mind open. He should finish making breakfast and interrogate her for real. Maybe call Kenny to pick up his crazy sister.

She broke the silence, tone still light as can be, “Speaking of last night's unfortunate incident, I was wondering if you would be so kind as to allow me to borrow some clothes. I did what I could last night but I believe the stains are here to stay on my dress.”

“Uh, yeah, let me--” she held up a dainty hand.

“Don’t worry, I took the time to learn where things were in the night. Please continue preparing breakfast, it smells lovely and I’m anxious to try it.”

He nodded dumbly as she disappeared into his room.

He took in the information.

_ If _ he believed that she was actually a princess version of Kenny from a world with fucking  _ elves _ , god what kind of Tolkien bullshit was this,  _ and _ he believed that what he had seen the night before was  _ not  _ in fact from hallucinogens he had no memory of taking, then it only made sense that a Kenny had been exchanged for a Kenny.

Which meant that Mysterion was Kenny.

And also that Princess Kenny was married to some random ass elf king in some bizarro world.

A world where Mysterion had probably appeared.

And the Princess had appeared barely in her dress, showcasing details of her anatomy that also asked further questions.

“Uhh--Princess?” he called.

“Yes?” Her voice carried so lightly and yet carried so well. What the hell did she do with it?

“Were you by any chance  _ with _ your Elf King dude when you--uhh--” he wasn’t quite sure how to describe it.

She spared him, door clicking as she made her way back into the room, “Yes, why do you ask?”

Oh, huh, she was in his clothes and it was Kenny’s face and--right, she’s married? Also probably Kenny’s psycho twin.

“Uhh… how well would you say your husband would respond to a random bloody stranger appearing in your place?”

Her eyes widened as she considered this, “You were with someone when I appeared.”

“Yeah, he was--well, he’s--it’s a bit complicated.” How the hell did he explain anything without sounding more insane than she probably was?

“You were with Kenny McCormick.” She seated herself again and gestured for him to do so as well. There was a graceful command to it and he turned off the stove to obey. Omelets could wait for a few minutes, “That’s how you knew my name.”

She didn’t phrase anything like a question but her words still sounded like a demand for answers. Maybe this is why it felt so easy to believe her? The way she held herself was so undeniably  _ royal _ .

Her calm deducing tones weren’t helpful though. It solidified further in his mind the connection that he didn’t want to believe.

“I think so.” The words were as honest as they could be, “He--um, was in disguise. I’m… pretty sure it was Kenny though.”

She tapped her chin thoughtfully, gaze somewhere past his shoulder in thoughtfulness. “I see. Would you mind explaining what sort of disguise?”

He did so.

He explained a lot. He returned to cooking to help with the pent up energy that accompanied the explanation.

He shouldn’t tell her any of this. What was it about  _ Kennys _ and making him do stupid things that he shouldn’t?

He started at the beginning, learning that within the bureau there was discontent at Mysteron’s work. His suspicions about dirty cops and agents. The complaint he made to I.A. that got buried. Taking the task onto his own shoulders and meeting the man of mystery.

“You’re just not the sort to let injustice stand, are you?” She’d commented mildly.

He didn’t know how to respond to that. It was an observation, neither a compliment nor a criticism. She was spending as much time assessing him as he was her.

He continued instead, trying to leave out as much about their personal relationship as possible, his investigation finally leading to a laid-back man with blue eyes that he still didn’t want to believe was Mysterion.

She had an omelet in front of her by the time he’d reached the present.

“Why would he come to you while injured if you’re trying to catch him?”

He shrugged helplessly, heart constricting at the thoughts it brought on, “If I understood what was going on in his head I probably would have caught him ages ago.”

She conceded, taking a bite of her food and smiling at the taste. He liked how it brightened her face, “This is delicious, thank you. As for your earlier question, I can’t say for sure how the Elf King would respond to a stranger appearing in my stead. Honestly I can’t say if he’d be all that pleased with myself at the moment.” She paused for another bite, “How would you respond?”

“If my half-naked wife disappeared and was replaced with a grumpy bleeding man? Uhh… yeah, probably not great.” Kyle paused, “Why wouldn’t he be pleased with you?”

She giggled and tapped her nose, “You answered your own question, sir.”

“...You disappeared?”

It wasn’t intentional, but it earned him another giggle, “Alright, Special Agent Kyle Broflovski of the F.B.I., I am going to be uncomfortably frank with you. As you noted earlier, Karen is my younger sister’s name and my husband’s true betrothed.”

“Okay…” Kyle was trying to jump ahead in the conversation to where answers were freely offered. Thus far he was more confused.

Princess Kenny’s voice deepened a bit and entered a tenor he was so familiar with that it hurt. The strange accent was still there, but the voice was unmistakable. The words less carefully chosen. “So, I wasn’t gonna let my baby sister marry some creepy weird elf from some stupid kingdom to do who even knows what.  _ Hell _ no. Sure, Kingy turned out to be the okay sort, but ya gotta understand that I wasn’t gonna chance Karen’s future on that shit. Fuck no.”

Kyle felt like it was getting a little hard to breathe. It was a lot easier to talk freely about all this while imagining Princess Kenny as someone who was completely different in character from the Kenny he knew.

Now, of course, he was realizing how very similar the two of them really were.

“So,  _ maybe _ , he hasn’t really seen under the garments yet. I’m pretty good at avoiding the issue and maybe he’s been under the impression that his wife has very different body parts.”

Oh.

Kyle caught up.

“You disappeared when he caught you changing.”

“Yep.” The p popped and Kyle didn’t enjoy the amount of strange relief he felt that it was merely a political marriage. He didn’t like the thought of Kenny, any Kenny, married.

Then he felt instantly guilty for the relief. Princess Kenny deserved a happy and fulfilling relationship and she’d sacrificed it all.

She tugged at the hem of the Terrance and Philip shirt she’d chosen, something like nerves showing on her face, “How--how would you react, in his shoes?”

Why would she ask him something like that?! Kyle stuffed his face with a large chunk of egg to get time to think.

It didn’t help, she was still looking at him with a sincere emotion. He realized that even if it was a political marriage she might have grown to like the man. He sighed.

“I can’t say. I’m biased.”

She blinked, at a loss, “How so?”

He sighed, she’d been ‘uncomfortably frank’ so perhaps it was his turn. At this point it couldn’t hurt, “Well, you’re…” this was going to be awkward, “Kenny McCormick.” Unless he’d somehow been duped by a mental patient. God, his life was spiraling out of control.

The Princess waited a moment before prompting further, clearly expecting more of an explanation than that, “And?”

Why wasn’t she as perceptive about this as she was about seemingly everything else? For all he knew, where she came from didn’t even have running water but yet she’d still managed to figure out how to work his modern appliances well enough to clean himself and the living room.

Kyle sighed and eyed the chunks of cut vegetables in his meal like they would offer an easy way out. It looked like he would just need to be honest. “I  _ like _ Kenny McCormick.”

There was silence across from him and he wasn’t going to look up from the bell pepper for all the money in the world. Not into the eyes of whatever judgement was probably being aimed at him. Or worse, polite rejection. She was a married woman after all and seemed quite invested in her husband.

And while she couldn’t necessarily speak for his Kenny she could speak for “Kennys” in a more general spectrum of Kenny-ness and thus a rejection from her would be in some way an extension of how Kenny might feel and oh god, this was really confusing.

Point being, he didn’t want to hear Kenny,  _ any _ Kenny, explain to him how dumb this pervasive emotion was. He already knew that. He’d known for ages.

If he was honest he also knew that Mysterion had to be Kenny.

“Look, I know it’s not really going to work out. I’ve gotta arrest him and also he’s not really in this reality anymore I guess, and really there’s no guarantee he would like me even if--and I think I even told him last night and he didn’t seem to--look, you don’t need to tell me. I know. I’m just saying, if  _ I  _ was some stupid elf king married to Kenny McCormick, I really wouldn’t care about those sorts of details, okay?”

The Princess finally cleared her throat, it was the first sound she’d made in awhile and so he chanced a half glance up, her face a picture he wouldn’t soon forget.

“So that I’m perfectly clear,” her voice was back to the delicacy of grace but with a nervous edge, hands fiddling with the tips of her hair and face a shade pinker than he recalled it being, “If  _ you _ were the Elf King, you’d be pleased to have me as a wife. Regardless of any fibs that may have been told.”

He wasn’t imagining, there was some tint of amusement to her voice, he would take her question seriously though. His own Kenny had definitely pulled the wool over him--Was exceptional acting a trait he had transdimensionally?--if Kenny liked him despite the games and lies, would he still be pleased to pursue a relationship?

“I mean, yeah.” They would have to troubleshoot a lot of things--a lot of things--and maybe shelve the whole lying thing, but the sound of his pulse wouldn’t allow him anything less. “I--I like him a lot.”

She snorted, “Whatever did my other self do to get you so smitten? All you told me was a series of events where he caused you trouble.”

What was it?

Kyle shrugged helplessly, “It’s not anything particular. It’s everything and it’s nothing. He’s--” everything, precious, serious, brave, smart, witty, funny, interesting, enjoyable, “--someone I can’t help feeling happy around. Even when I want to strangle him.”

She was leaning on her palm again, “I suppose I’ll have to hope the Elf King is as won over as you are. For the sake of my other self and your future prospects with him.”

Kyle, despite himself, did not like this thought and frowned. Some fancy elf king from some fancy alternate reality wooing over Kenny--he’d never thought he was the jealous sort. This is ridiculous and the Princess was laughing at him, again.

“It would probably be in all our best interests if we found a way to fix this situation,” she managed after the giggles subsided. “If this continues as is, I may end up doing something adulterous.”

“Yeah--wait, what.”

She wouldn’t clarify, instead pointedly finishing her meal with that same ladylike posture that demanded respect.

It was definitely for the best that his Kenny was just a law breaking vigilante, it was hard enough keeping up with that. He didn’t stand a chance against the political figure.

\--

He called Kenny’s phone.

The Princess was taking a shower and his headache had finally subsided to the extent that he felt almost human again. Meaning he was now questioning his trust in the impossible all over again.

Sure, he believed his own eyes and gut, but his hyper logical brain had to  _ try _ .

The phone rang until the voicemail and that was where he lost it.

It was definitely Kenny.

The bored and generic ‘leave a message after the beep’ recording made by Kenny.

Who was also Mysterion.

Who was also a Princess.

It seemed much less complicated earlier, having an exceptionally late breakfast with the Princess.

Kyle laid back and stared up at his ceiling, trying to blink back tears.

He had to arrest Kenny, if he ever got him back. Was he even still alive? Who’s to say that he actually even traded places with the Princess. Maybe he’d just been sucked into hell and died. Maybe he got to the elf palace and bled to death while some stupid king interrogated him instead of treating him.

Maybe he’d fall head over heels for some stupid elven Tolkien jackass that apparently made Kenny’s weak at the knees and be pissed that Kyle found a way to bring him back.

Oh, he didn’t like that option at all. It went straight up there just below dead Kenny.

He shouldn’t be obsessing over such small petty details. He let out a long exhale of frustration.

“Worried?”

He was going to have to have a serious talk with the Princess about sneaking up on him.

It was a fight for another day though, today was stressful enough as it was, “You could say that.”

The bed shifted and he could see her sitting nearby out of the corner of his eye, warm steam still surrounding her with the smell of soap and wearing another one of Kyle’s shirts.

“What about?” It was unearthly how she made simple questions curl about his mind.

“Take a wild guess.”

“I’m sure he’s fine. Well, maybe grumpy, but otherwise fine.”

He mulled this over, “Do you get grumpy?”

“Parden?”

“I mean, I’ve never really seen Kenny grumpy but I know that Mysterion is a giant pile of malcontent shaken and stirred so I assume the guy has a grumpy side. It’s kinda hard to imagine you grumpy though. You’re so…”  _ ethereal _ , “Not… grumpy?”

She flicked his head and he could spy an affectionate smile, he found himself unable to look away.

“Yeah, I get grumpy. I just show it in different ways. In my position… it’s important to keep it in.”

He could imagine. He had enough trouble holding his own temper in a position where he had very little exposure to the pressures of the public. He didn’t fancy the life of royalty.

“What do you do then?”

“Hm… well, depends on why I’m grumpy. If it’s a serious problem, I’ll have to deal with it accordingly, if it’s something minor…”

She leaned backwards, her weight falling onto his midsection and finished her thought, “Depends.”

“Do you get annoyed with the Elf King?”

He could feel her laugh vibrating off of himself, “All the time. He’s an obtuse creature that’s too wrapped up in the problem in front of him to see a wider picture.”

“Why do you like him then?”

She froze and face turned to hide her expression, “Because the picture in front of him is also usually an important one, I suppose.”

“You never told me what you do when you’re annoyed with him.”

She turned back towards him and grinned, hair fanning around her face, “I know all his weaknesses.”

He didn’t know if he thought she was beautiful or terrifying in that instance, “So you exploit them?”

She shrugged, “Or I train.” she flexed an admittedly impressive bicep, “A princess needs to be prepared for anything.”

“Can’t argue with that.”

They lapsed into a companionable silence. He wondered exactly how long she intended to stay laying across him like a pillow but also conceded that if he pointed it out, she might move and it was a strangely comfortable position.

“When I’m really frustrated, I sing.”

That wasn’t really an answer he expected. Though he hadn’t expected the tangent to continue at all, “Oh.” he replied lamely.

“Nothing impressive, just something loud and  _ me _ . Sometimes it’s easy to lose myself in the shadows I create.”

She didn’t sound like she was talking to him. Her eyes were locked onto the ceiling.

It was quiet again.

“I’ve never told anyone that.” She pondered, turning her eyes to lock on his, “I’m only telling you because this is temporary I think.”

She sounded exceptionally confident that this was a fact. He lifted his head, “Why do you think that?”

She pointed to the ceiling where her stare at been so riveted. He nearly screamed at what he saw. The same creeping coils he’d seen take Mysterion and now he was  _ very _ sober and oh god, despite it all he wasn’t quite ready for such supernatural nonsense to be a  _ thing _ .

It was reaching and testing.

Kyle gulped, “Wh--are you sure it’ll bring you back home? What if it just takes you somewhere else?”

She turned around and crawled up to look him in the eye.

“You worry too much. Don’t. If there’s one thing I’m confident in, it’s my ability to survive whatever life throws my way.” Her eyes were twinkling and he realized he didn’t quite want to see her go. He’d barely scratched the surface on getting to know her.

His heart ached and he realized he might just be weak to Kennys of all backgrounds.

She tapped her forehead on his, “You’re sweet, Special Agent Kyle. I’d give you a kiss but judging by your reactions today, you seem like the jealous type.”

Kyle’s mind circled to understand the logic.

The coils reached her at last and she winked, “Use your head, idiot.”

And without even giving him the proper time to reach out and stop this, she was gone and a heavy form fell onto his own.

“ _ Fuck _ .”

Oh shit, he knew that voice.

Kurwa jego mac, he’s currently being crushed by the holder of that voice.

His arms reached out against his better judgement and clung.

“What the--” the voice froze and he heard a choking sound, “Speci--Kyle?”

“Shut up for a second, Kenny.” Kyle took it in, unwilling to release the boy and face what would be all that stood between them, “I’ve had a really fucking stressful day.”

Kenny snorted, “ _ You’ve _ had a stressful day?!” He could  _ hear _ the eyeroll, “Do you even  _ know _ what an asshole of a king you make?!”

“...What.”


	3. Chapter 3

It was a lot to take in with only a moment to do so. He quickly found that his mind was tugging in four different directions that each demanded his full and complete attention.

The King within him, accustomed to handling emotionally strenuous circumstances and developing reasonable strategies for them, focused on the dead spider that had carried the curse to his wife. Who could have sent it? What was its purpose? What had it done to his wife? And most importantly, how could he reverse it?

The husband within him, a smitten man that had become enraptured by his wife, was consumed with concern and anger. A righteous fury at whoever dared to strike at the woman he loved and a cloying terror within him that whatever had been done was permanent. The tendrils of darkness robbing him of the woman he loved forever.

The politician within him, adept at the little details and emotionally distant, contemplated the ramifications of his wife’s flat and muscular chest. If she, or he as it turned out, was hiding his gender, what else was being hidden? Was this, as he’d initially feared, a political marriage that aimed not for peace but to assess weakness within his country? Was there anything about her, or him, that was true? Did she care for him? Was she really a princess or had she killed and replaced the real Princess Karen McCormick? There were too many unanswered questions and none of the presented answers looked pleasant.

And finally, the part of him that was probably the closest to a center that he had, screaming in confusion an odd mixture of profanities and puzzled indignation. If this part of him had anything approaching a voice it would probably sound like a muffled cry of, “ _ What the _ \--”

“---fuck.” The figure replacing his wife groaned from the ground and Kyle was reminded that despite how stretched his mind currently felt, he was not currently taking in enough details because there was a  _ bleeding figure on the ground groaning where his wife had once been and no part of him had decided to register this _ .

“Who are you?!” Kyle instantly assumed an aggressive stance, for as injured as the person appeared there was still no evidence that they weren’t an aggressive force of some kind. They could have even been the one to send the curse after his wife.

Startlingly blue eyes locked on his own and if Kyle had been holding anything, it would have clattered to the ground. As it was, reality had to make due with what he did have and it was his emotional capacity to handle the situation that shattered against the marble floors into countless shards.

Kyle moved without thinking.

“What have you done with Karen?!” Throwing caution to the wind he closed the gap between them to grip the strange man by his collar, pulling him to his feet, “Why do you have her eyes?!”

The man, a picture of confusion one moment and a hardened image of stoicism the next, moved with surprising agility to disrupt Kyle’s grip and put a distance between them. His injury didn’t seem to thank him; yet, despite the telling way his body lurched the man’s face remained an unreadable and distrusting mask.

He was reminded of his wife in the strangest way.

The voice that growled at him was nothing like the soft song of her voice though, “Where am I.”

It wasn’t a question, it was a demand. Kyle ruffled with indignation. No one spoke to a king like that.

“I have no obligation to explain to an intruder. You still haven’t told me what you’ve done with Karen!”

Something that might have actually been an emotion flickered in the cold eyes, “I have no obligation to explain myself to an asshole.”

Kyle, to his discredit, actually huffed out a distressed sound. Even the teasing of his wife had never approached this level of disrespect. He’d in all honesty never received this sort of disrespect in his entire life.

There was a soft knock on the bathroom door and Kyle realized belatedly that he had guards. He could just imprison the strangely dressed  _ barbarian _ , wait that would be insulting to the barbarians, and interrogate him until he’d received the answers he required.

The time spent thinking and the time spent glaring down his new nemesis was cut short by the entrance of a small maid that had come rarely strayed from his wife's side.

She stared with wide eyes at the scene before her, clean linens held like a shield, “Ah, no one answered so I thought--” she locked eyes on the stranger and hers grew to the size of saucers.

The stranger was staring with equal shock.

“Karen?”

It wasn’t the growl from earlier and it wasn’t the feather light sound of his wife. Somewhere in the middle. A clear voice that rang into the room.

The maid sputtered, now desperately side-eyeing her king with apprehension. When her eyes darted back to the stranger she seemed to finally take in the most important information and dropped her linens in favor of running towards the injured man.

“Kenny! What happened?! Why are you injured--” she gasped, eyes darting back to Kyle suspiciously, “--did he--” there was something approaching rage in the normally subservient voice, Kyle was startled by the strength of it.

He managed to play catch up, only barely, “I didn’t hurt him--I don’t even know who he is!”

She still glared at him but it was momentary. Her attention was immediately drawn towards forcing the man to seat himself and removing the cloth around the injury so she could clean it.

And to Kyle’s surprise, the previously aggressive and noncompliant man let her. As though there was not a single thing he would ever deny the small and seemingly powerless maid.

“Your highness,” her voice still had an edge to it that Kyle would have to examine later, “I humbly request that you immediately summon a trusted and skilled healer.”

There was nothing in her tone that was humble or requesting. It held a true commanding tone . Kyle was tempted to fight it, too, just on principle but it dawned him the amount of blood that was pooling on the ground.

One couldn’t demand answers from the dead.

Gritting back his pride, Kyle left the room to do just that.

It couldn’t have been long, but by the time he returned with Stan and the trusted healer Gary in tow, the stranger and the maid were having a whispered conversation that screamed of importance. He was tempted to have Stan send them both to the cells for questioning immediately.

He was not taking this situation well.

Gary rushed past him at the sight of the man and immediately began treatment, bossing Stan into helping him carry the man to the bed over in the adjacent room.

Great. His nice bed he shared with his apparently not-really-wife was going to be covered in blood from a stranger that was rude and also had his wife’s eyes and--

Kyle stared openly. Gary removed the masked concealing half the man's face and the hood that had been concealing his sunshine colored hair.

Whoever the stranger was, whatever his purpose was, he had the face of the woman that Kyle had fallen in love with. Kyle choked on the knowledge, stomach knotting at the potential implications of that information.

A twin? A disguise? A stolen body? There were too many possibilities and there was far too little information. Kyle turned his attention to the fretting maid assisting Gary.

His ears hadn’t deceived him. The stranger had called her Karen.

“Karen,” he tested, watching as her shoulders stiffened and the injured man tried to pay attention, only to get pushed back down by Gary’s gentle but firm ministrations, “Stan will assist Gary. You’re coming with me to explain. Now.”

He knew what his voice usually did in these situations. If ever there was a reason to use so a commanding tone with the servants, there was cowering. Karen’s posture remained straight and her gaze unyielding.

The stranger spoke up before she did, “Not fucking likely, pointy-ears!” Gary shushed him but ultimately it was Karen that was able to settle him with a wave of her hand.

“It’s alright, Kenny. Just focus on healing. This needs dealing with.”

Kenny nodded obediently, still looking unhappy about it all and glared at Kyle with that same impudence that ought to get him locked away for a time to come, “You harm a fucking  _ hair _ on her head and I’m tearing yours off.”

It was a ridiculous and over the top threat. But there was enough promise to it that Stan actually stiffened and unconsciously reached for his sword defensively.

Kyle didn’t  _ sneer _ , he didn’t, he totally didn’t. He was not the sneering type of person. Why would he sneer? He wasn’t that petty.

Okay, he sneered, “I have no intention of hurting her. I need answers.”

With that he swept from the room, trusting Karen to follow. He’d barely exited before he realized how overly dramatic and ridiculous he must have looked. There was also a pause in time before Karen departed the room as well, leaving him to stand stupidly in the hall and feel like a fool.

This was not a day he would look back on fondly. He held back a despairing sigh and squared his shoulders to face the girl.

“Who is that man?”

To his surprise, a bit of her bravado deflated at what should have been an expected question. Still, she met his gaze with an admirable confidence, “To be honest, your majesty, I’m not entirely sure.”

Well, if that isn’t a hot pile of horse dung...

“You know his name, he knows yours, and his face is  _ identical _ to my wife’s. A woman, or man as it turns out, that you must have been serving quite closely.”

A gut churning idea formed in Kyle’s mind. What if the relationship between the two of them was romantic--it would explain the protectiveness and the switch he now very much suspected--what did that make his entire marriage? Why would they do this?

He tried to quell his internal panic. It wasn’t going well.

She sighed again, this time a deeply solemn one, “He shares the name and face of a person close to me.”

“I take it my wife’s name is not Karen.” There he went, sneering again, Kyle hated himself a little. His heart felt cold and his words were poisonous. This wasn’t how negotiations were won.

He couldn’t maintain an emotional distance from this though.

Karen shifted, “If you’ve figured out that much… then at this point, I don’t think I have much of a choice but to tell you everything.” She still didn’t look comfortable with the idea, but must have inwardly gathered herself because she spoke with strength with her next words, “I am Princess Karen McCormick of Kupa Keep.” He’d figured it out but it still hurt to hear, the implications, the truces based on this marriage, the world of complication and heartbreak within had him clutched in the throws of unhappiness, “The man in there shares the same face and name of my elder brother, Kenneth McCormick.”

Kyle blinked.

He blinked again.

He attempted to absorb the information with the dissipating jealousy that had been curling in his stomach.

“Excuse me?”

She bit her bottom lip before continuing, “He… we didn’t know you. We didn’t know what was happening or whether this truce was a ruse for war. We didn’t know anything and when my hand was offered up… he refused to risk it. It’s not the first time he’s played the part of a woman, he’s as much my sister as my brother, so he reasoned he could switch our places.”

He felt sick suddenly. How much had been a lie? How much was true in their relationship?

How did any of this explain the stranger that had replaced his wife--replaced the person that had pretended to care for him?

“And who is he?” Karen’s eyes widened a fraction at his voice, Kyle felt somewhat numb to it.

He felt cold. Angry. Betrayed.

He would seek out answers about the intruder and then see about the easiest way to maintain the truce while putting as much distance between himself and the McCormick’s as possible.

“He’s my brother.” She looked hesitant, “And yet he’s not. He has a sister named Karen as well and even knows a person called Kyle with a striking similarity to your majesty, but to his knowledge he has never been royalty. I--I don’t know how to explain it. I understand he’s telling the truth, I know my brother. I know him. He’s also strange--did you hear his accent?”

Kyle looked at the girl quizzically before he remembered that humans heard sounds differently than elves. Elves had ears that could hear meaning across languages, the result often meaning that the subtleties were lost in translation. He could hear tones and meaning, but accents were something of a mystery. She seemed to come to the same realization and strove to describe it, “It’s… different. Otherworldly. Strange. I’ve never heard a person speak my mother tongue so stiff. It’s nothing like any accent I’ve heard before.”

Kyle absorbed this information. So the man’s voice was strange.... His thoughts halted and backtracked.

“What do you mean he knows another man named Kyle that looks like me?”

“A human, apparently,” Karen said delicately, “I didn’t get a lot of information. We weren’t able to talk long. He explained that he was with a different man with your name and appearance prior to appearing before you. He doesn’t know how that happened.” Karen took some confidence in the drawl of her breath, “Your highness, where is my brother?”

It was a foolishly belated realization that this might be a concern of hers. He felt a shred of remorse for his judgemental behavior. His wife, Kenny, Karen’s brother, had still disappeared and she didn’t have the faintest idea how.

He swallowed, trying to conjure his earlier fury to keep his tone detached, “A curse. I don’t know from who or how. It crawled into our room and went straight for Kar--Kenny. She killed it but the intended effect, whatever that might have been, was already in motion. She--she disappeared before that man appeared in her place.”

Something about what he said caused both of them to pause.

Among the creatures that crawl across Zaron there is one known for stealing faces and replacing them. The faceless witch. A legend within a myth. It is said that she doesn’t live in a single realm, but rather several at once, assuming the identities that best serve her nefarious purposes.

“...You say he sounds otherworldly?”

She nodded, eyes on the door to the royal quarters, “I’m pretty sure Sir Marshwalker can hear it as well. If you would like further confirmation.”

They both paused thoughtfully.

“Are you  _ positive _ he’s your brother?”

She hesitated, only briefly, “I would need to talk to him longer. Alone.”

Kyle blanched, “That’s dangerous!”

She glared at him, “He’s not going to open up with you around. You attacked and threatened him. In his words, forgive my language your majesty, ‘that pointy eared bastard is a dickhole’.”

He did  _ not  _ forgive her language but he wasn’t left with much of a choice, the door to the room opened and Stan peeked out, “Uh, Gary’s mostly done. He should be fine. Do you guys want to come back in and explain why her majesty the queen is a dude that keeps cussing me out?”

“We’ll continue this later.” Kyle promised, a cold firmness to his voice.

Karen returned the look, “I would expect nothing less.”

Stan, at a loss as to why a maid was trying to stare down a king, decided it wasn’t in his best interest to ask and wisely retreated back into the bedroom for them to follow.

Kenny was sitting up with significantly more life in his cheeks, marveling at his previously injured stomach, “Holyfuckingcrap, dude, you’re an actual wizard or someshit.”

The reference to wizardry had most faces in the room perturbed but Kenny either didn’t notice or care.

“Yer a wizar’, Gary!” He laughed like he’d made a joke before he caught sight of the returned royalty, “Oh, hey, it’s the spikey-eared jackass in tights. Decided to stop being a giant bag of dicks yet?”

Gary was a professional and showed not even the slightest sign of amusement. Stan was less stoic, an actual snort escaping before he covered his mouth. Kyle didn’t dare check Karen’s response.

He held his full height over the bed, somewhere inside beginning to doubt this was the witch. Surely if she had taken the place of someone in such a position of power she wouldn’t be doing everything in her power to dismantle it, “I would appreciate if you would show some respect--”

Kenny snorted, “Earn it first, asshole.”

“--You do realize I’m a king, right?”

“Sure, whatever, Kingy.”

Kyle’s voice caught in his throat.

There was a pause in the room.

It wasn’t a particularly creative nickname. It wasn’t an interesting nickname. It had been  _ her _ nickname for him, using it whenever she felt he was being just a touch too preachy or stuck in his ways.

A chiding but loving name.

No one but her would ever dare use it.

“...So asshole and pointy-eared bastard are okay, but Kingy is too much?” Kenny quirked a brow at the tense room, “You guys have some fucking weird hard limits.”

Karen was the one to approach, “Kenny, I--” she glanced at the assembled group, “I understand you’re confused and angry, but we’re not going to get very far solving anything with you antagonizing people.”

It was instantaneous. The man deflated and his corners softened. The parts of him that had regarded the room with contempt faded as he gave the girl an apologetic smile. It was horrifyingly sincere, Kyle recognized it from the few times he’d seen his wife drop her guard.

“I’m sorry, Karen.” He meant it. Kyle couldn’t deny that and he longed to doubt it, a witch could be defeated, a stranger with a different life but the same soul was a completely new and complicated problem, “I’ll try to play nice.”

She fixed him with a steely gaze, Kyle thought for almost a moment that there had been a misstep in his character that only a sibling would know, when she spoke again it was firm and determined. It sounded like a belief and a command in one, “Don’t try. Do.”

His eyes widened and to the surprise of everyone in the room he immediately wrapped his arms around her in a bear hug, laughing heartily, “You’re right. By gods, you’re completely right. I’m sorry, Karen,” he apologized again, this time with heart as well as sincerity, “Holycrap, you really are my sister.”

Kyle had been ignoring Stan’s questioning looks for awhile now. The puzzled stare was starting to burn the back of his head.

Karen giggled, “I get the feeling you’re really my brother too. Unless you’re a trans dimensional witch that is attempting to usurp the throne.”

Kyle could have thrown something, what the hell was she  _ doing _ revealing their suspicions?! He looked to Stan for backup but only found that same confused look that was asking for answers.

Kenny’s didn’t seem to show any response to the accusation aside from a bemused laugh, “Not last I checked, Kar, but I’ll let ya know if I grow some giant knockers and start conquering nations.”

That’s it, Kyle had hit his breaking point., “Excuse me if I don’t believe you so easily.” he said icily. He’d never seen such an open expression on that face for this long. It hurt.

It made him question his worst suspicions about their marriage.

Gary was the one that brought sense back, “Am I right in assuming that you are not, in a matter of fact, her majesty Karen McCormick, bound in marriage to Kyle Broflovski, high king of the elves?”

Kenny looked like he was going to laugh again and then he got a queasy expression as he examined the occupants of the room, “Wait, Karen, are you married to Kyle?”

There was something distinctly familiar in how he used the name. Like he wasn’t referring to the ‘pointy-eared bastard’. Kyle’s stomach lurched.

She sighed, “No, you are. And they think your name’s Karen. It’s a long story.”

Kenny nodded, paused, looked at Kyle, turned the brightest shade of red that Kyle had ever seen, and cried, “ _ I’m _ married to Kyle?!”

Gary, seemingly the only calm party in the room, Stan having resorted to poking Kyle when he got the chance, and Kyle was quite sure the thunderstorm of clashing emotions within him wasn’t doing his cognitive skills any favors, smiled in that subtle way he used on patients before a painful treatment, “In a matter of speaking. From what I’ve observed, I assume it would be fair to guess that you are actually the second prince, Kenneth McCormick.” Why did Gary always know shit like this? Kyle resented that he himself hadn’t paid as much attention to the family that ‘Karen’ had come from. “Only, you’re not.” Gary finished.

Kenny gave some thought to his answer, addressing only Gary and Kyle felt a wave of displeasure over being disregarded and ignored, “Good job piecing that together, dude. Yes, my name is Kenny, yes, I have a younger sister named Karen, and yes I am not a prince.” he wrinkled his nose, a shade of pink on his cheeks, “And I’m definitely not married to  _ Kyle _ .”

Kyle couldn’t take it any longer, “And what is so bad about that thought?!”

Stan’s poke this time was mostly to warn him not to be a twit. Kyle could recognize the different kinds of pokes. He ignored this one like the rest.

Kenny looked at him, his eyes glazing into the coldness from earlier, the mask that was reserved just for him it seemed, Kyle felt his heart shatter a little.

“And what would be so good about it?” He bit back.

Anger was easier to retrieve than hurt, he snarled, “Nothing, I suppose.” Stan poked urgently, “The marriage is purely political. A means to peace.”

Was he imagining the recoil? He didn’t have time to take it in, Karen had thwacked her not-brother over the head.

“Don’t be a dick,” she glared, “And don’t ruin shit for Kenny.”

Kyle’s mind latched onto the words, questions building in his throat.

Gary coughed, garnering attention again, “As much as I’m sure the two of you should have a long and  _ private _ conversation about the state of your marriage, I think it may be in all of our best interests if we take the time at this instance to discuss how this course of events came to be, and more importantly, how a solution can be found.”

Kenny nodded, not taking his eyes off of Kyle for a lingering moment, “You’re right. I have...shit I have to deal with, I don’t really have time to be playing dungeons and dragons.”

Gary nodded and clapped his hands together, “Good! So first of all, from what I have guessed, you replaced her majesty while in the company of her husband. Would you care to explain the course of events leading to this turn of events? Your highness, I would also like you to explain the situation with as much detail as possible.” Gary turned back to Kenny, “Oh, and how would you like me to refer to you?”

“Kenny’s good.”

“Excellent. Alright, Kenny first then.”

Kyle had the distinct feeling of being guided by one of his tutors as a youth. It was both comforting and agitating.

Kenny shrugged but there was a stiffness to his posture, “I--how much information do you need? It was sort of…”

“Everything. Please.” it was non-confrontational but firm, “The more we know, the more we can help.”

Kenny bit his lip and Kyle was reminded of Karen doing the same earlier. They really did have a sibling resemblance now that he was looking for it.

“I… it’s a bit of a long story but I was stopping a robbery. There was an unexpected element and I got injured.” He was growing shiftier, looking at anyone but Kyle, “I realized my injuries were probably fatal, without the use of this wizardly bastard apparently,” he grinned at Gary, “Shit dude, where have you been my whole life.”

Gary made a noncomental sound in response, polite smile still pressing for answers. Kenny rolled his eyes.

“So, figuring I didn’t wanna die on the side of the road, I made my way to a safe place.” he concluded with a shrug.

Kyle’s thoughts froze, repeating the subject matter in his mind in an endless loop.

Fatal.

He turned to Gary for confirmation and the man nodded. Kyle’s heart punctured at the thought. She--he--Kenny? This person. This person that held so many of his emotions was dying and he’d probably made it worse earlier--no wonder Kenny was so cross with him--and the thought of the person he’d come to care for so much dying was too much.

He also had the horrifying realization that if there had been a switch of some kind, his wife might now be in a dangerous place with those that would kill her.

“Did you get to safety?” He choked out, worry he would rather conceal coating his words.

There were those mesmerizing blue eyes on his and a tight but sad smile, “Yes. I... “ he looked away, back to Gary, schooling his voice for neutrality, “I went to Kyle Broflovski’s home. A different Kyle. No weird ears or shitty attitude. We talked. Weird dark tentacles dragged me here.”

Kyle’s brain was trying to play catch up, “Excuse me,  _ what _ .”

Kenny still was avoiding his gaze, “That’s all I know.” he clipped.

Gary looked like he had follow up questions but instead he turned to Kyle, “Alright, and your course of events, your highness?”

“Excuse me, are we  _ not _ going to ask him about how claimed to be have seen me but different?! I think that’s a pretty big deal.”

Gary’s look didn’t lose a shred of friendly patience but still somehow stopped the rest of Kyle’s questions, “I think, your majesty, it would be in our best interests to gather all the information first.”

Kenny snorted, “You got schooled.” Karen thwacked him again.

Kyle sucked in his damaged pride, Gary wasn’t wrong. “I was reading documents from the last meeting. Kare--” he hated this, “Prince Kenneth, as I am now informed, was in the bathroom changing. I spotted a cursed spider making its way to her and attempted to intercede. I--was too late. By the time I reached the room, the spider was dead and dark tendrils took her away. When the darkness let up, he was in her place.”

Gary hummed thoughtfully, “Do you remember any details about the spider?”

Kyle concentrated, “It was purple and it had a symbol, I could probably draw it, it was gold and looked something like a fire.”

Stan, uncharactistically silent up till now, piped up, “So, basically this Kenny swapped with our Kenny, right?” Everyone looked at him, “Right?”

“That’s a possibility.” Gary acknowledged, “I’ll have to research the matter.”

Stan shrugged, “Seems like the only answer that makes sense to me. Also, uh, Kenny?”

The man acknowledged Stan with a  quirk of his brow.

“If you dislike Kyle so much, why did you head to his place for safety?”

The look on his face was priceless. Kyle made a note to do something kind for Stan in the future. No one had successfully flabbergasted the unwanted guest thus far. Kyle also felt a certain amount of trepidation build within him.

He realized with slight despair that despite everything he wanted to know the true feelings. What his wife had kept hidden and what was the truth among the lies.

“Good question!” Kenny responded, an ear-splittingly fake grin on his face, “I have a better one, anyone want to guess at how that Kyle responded to my sudden disappearance and the appearance of a half-naked queen me?”

An obvious deflection but a bright enough question that now Kyle was concerned. He couldn’t guess, how would he? This other him--if such a being really existed--was a human? And beyond that, was moments prior watching Kenny die.

Gary cut-into the panic, “Depends. What sort of relationship did you have with him?”

Kyle decided that Gary and Stan were his favorite people at the moment. His brain was too busy playing catch up.

Kenny didn’t seem to have anticipated the turn around and he looked to Karen for help, she shrugged, “You dug your own grave.”

Whatever answers there may have been, Gary cut them short, “But as I said earlier, that’s for the two of you to discuss in privacy. At the moment I would like to take the time look into the curse. At best, it’s a prank, at worst, something more sinister is occurring and requires our immediate attention. Sir Marshwalker, I would like you to stay with the McCormick’s here while his highness and I attempt to decipher the curse.”

No one argued. Everyone secretly wanted to. Everyone in the room outranked Gary. He ought not be the one making decisions.

He was just a really hard guy to argue with though. Especially when he was right.

Reluctantly, Kyle departed the room again with the healer, half hoping that Stan would continue the investigation and inform him of the findings.

“Quite a way to spend one of your rare days off,” Gary chuckled, “I suppose this may change things.”

The weight of that information struck a chord within Kyle. It would. It was inevitable. What were his options after this? The marriage had been a trick, at least to some capacity, and there had to be consequences.

They couldn’t come clean to the public, it would destroy the delicate peace that had finally descended. Kyle was also quite sure he couldn’t remain married to a lie.

“Yes,” he answered finally, “Things will change.”

Perhaps it was his tone but Gary slowed his stride to look him up and down, “Do you no longer care for her?”

Why was he so observant?

“That’s--he’s not even a her.”

“Is that what the problem is?”

Kyle dragged a hand over his hair, noting that his crown had been left in his room, “That’s not it--she--he-- it was a lie. It was all a lie.”

“It was always a political marriage.” Gary levied.

Kyle felt the frustration and rage assail him all over, “Yes, it was, before she made me  _ care _ for her. Before he decided to use my emotions.”

“What makes you so sure that was a lie?”

Kyle marched faster towards the library, frustration propelling him forth, “How could it be anything  _ but _ ? You heard him, back there, the concept of being married to me--he doesn’t share my feelings. And if, in fact, he is somehow a reflection of her that means that in all likeliness neither does she.”

Gary hummed, not sounding convinced but choosing against further comment, “Well, one problem at a time, I suppose. For now, please hold off on any hasty decisions until we’ve worked out this nasty business. For all we know the purpose of this entire debacle was to destroy the marriage between you.”

The thought hadn’t occurred to him. He allowed it to settle and allowed his more critical mind to take the lead over his emotions. Gary had a terrible habit of making very good points.

“One thing at a time.” he agreed.

\--

After hours spent in the library he finally had vague idea as to what they were dealing with. There was still the matter of who and why, but the how and what still helped them to deal with the crisis in front of them.

Namely, getting his Kenneth from whatever world he’d wound up in. If Kenny’s injuries spoke of anything, it was about the potential dangers there. Kyle wouldn’t be able to solve anything if she died.

Gary shooed him away now that a solution was in sight, taking the tomes he’d need down to the alchemists, “It’s time you had that private discussion,” he insisted.

Kyle didn’t really want to.

There was laughter coming from his royal chambers.

He could hear Stan’s mixing in with Karen’s and Kenny’s. He decided to forego knocking, entering as silently as he could.

“--then, this asshole, all the audacity in the world, looks me in the eye and tells me he’s looking for a school for his nephew. I couldn’t believe my fucking eyes. Do you have  _ any _ idea how much self-control it took not to show it on my face?!” The language was crude, but there was a distinct fondness behind it.

What the hell.

“Oh shit, so Ike has a child where you’re from?”

Why the hell was Stan acting so chummy.

“Oh yeah, sweet kid. Wish you could meet him. Does  _ not _ take after uncle grumpy-pants or papa stoneface. Thank god.”

“Wait, so he actually enrolled?”

Kyle cleared his throat, mind trying to catch up to the seemingly nonsensical information being provided. Eavesdropping wasn’t a hobby he wanted to pick up either.

“Oh, hey, speaking of Grumpy! What’s up, Kingy? Figure out the weird curse shit?” Same crude language, none of the earlier warmth.

Stan had the presence of mind to look embarrassed. Karen still looked like she was enjoying a good joke.

“I’d like to speak with,” his nose crinkled, “Kenneth here, privately.”

It came out colder than intended. Something about being in the presence of the source of his distress made it somewhat impossible to maintain his cool.

Kenny rolled his eyes, “See what I mean, what a grumpy asshole…”

“Now.” Kyle clipped.

Karen probably would have stayed but Kenny waved her off easily. Stan looked worried but left obediently.

“Alright, your bitchiness, what do you wanna know?”

Kyle meant to do a lot of things, maybe demand some form of decorum, maybe demand answers about his alternate self, maybe request clarification on what he’d just heard, or any of the prepared questions Gary had given him, instead he marched forward until he was almost nose to nose with the arrogant asshole.

“Who are you.”

Kenny blinked, nonplussed, “I thought we covered that--”

“No. We didn’t. Who are you. What defines you. Where do you come from. Explain it to me.  _ Now _ .”

Kenny stared back, a mask rather than an expression and Kyle had  _ had _ it.

“Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like  _ what _ ?”

“You’re hiding yourself from me. You’ve always been hiding yourself from me. I’m sick of it.”

Kyle hadn’t meant to put that much emotion into his words.

He hadn’t meant for his own expression to become honest.

“Why would you use my feelings?” He wasn’t talking to the right Kenny, it didn’t matter, “Why didn’t you just stay distant if you didn’t feel the same?”

“Woah, dude, wai--”

Kyle’s vision blurred and he couldn’t tell if it was from frustration or despair, “How much of this was a lie?”

His voice broke.

Kenny’s mask wavered, “Look, I’m sorry I have a dick--”

“That’s not the problem!” The emotions swirled within him, a crawling coil around his heart that threatened to break it in half, “Did you ever care about me?!”

Soft lips covered his own and Kyle’s thoughts froze. A semblance of sense returning to him.

The sensation departed and Kenny was looking away, eyes unmasked with raw emotion.

“Look. Dude. I--I don’t know how the other me felt or what she was after. You’ll have to talk to her. I have a different set of circumstances to worry about. I---” he cut himself off before resuming, “You really like her, don’t you?”

Kyle didn’t want to answer that question. Not now when his heart couldn’t handle this moment.

There was something distinctly heart-rendering about the emotion in Kenny’s face. Bare in a way he’d yet to see previously.

“Yes.” he confirmed, heart in his throat, a hollow laugh threatening to break him, “She--He… knew exactly how to make me care, I guess.”

Insult crossed his face, a fire that Kyle hadn’t seen previously burning to the surface as Kenny met his gaze, “Why are you so confident it was a trick?”

Perhaps something showed in his expression because Kenny’s face softened, “You.”

He got head-butted. Him.  _ Head-butted _ .

The indignity of it alone had him entirely flabbergasted. Speechless.

“You’re an  _ idiot _ .” Kenny groaned, hands flung into the air as if to ask the universe for a solution to Kyles everywhere, “You’re a dumb idiot. And full of yourself.”

Kyle fought the urge to rub his aching forehead, “Excuse me?”

“You’re not excused!” Kenny raved, a pointer finger finding its way to his chest and poking with more force than strictly necessary,. What was it with people poking him today? “You, and your stupid alternate self, you’re both stupid selfish jerks and I  _ hate  _ you.”

Kyle’s heart was somewhere around his toes, he gasped for breath as if the wind had knocked out of him.

“You think it’s all simple! You can just tell me you love me and everything will be  _ fine _ ! It’s not, okay?! I have responsibilities, I have goals, I have a goddamn life outside of you! Just because some stupid gorgeous FBI  _ asshole _ decides to turn my life on it’s head, I can’t just obediently bark at his command, okay?! I have  _ shit _ to deal with! You--you make things so stupidly complicated with your simplistic way of thinking!”

Kyle wanted to get a word in edgewise, he received a violent prod for his trouble.

“No! I’m talking, you damn--what gives you the right?! And whatever it is you’ve done has me looking at a reality where everything is fucking dandy and  _ still _ \--all you think about is your own damn feelings! Have you ever thought about how all this crap tears me apart?! You petty,  _ stupid, _ ” Kyle was vaguely aware that every pointed prod was sending him slowly towards a wall, with a very angry Kenny cornering him, “Lousy, simple, stupid, stupid--telling me you love me?! Why would you do that?! Why would--” Kenny’s voice choked and Kyle finally found a train of thoughts, just as his foot bumped the wall.

“...What exactly were you talking about, before this happened?”

Kenny wasn’t looking away, very purposefully maintaining an angry gaze of unshed emotions. It was raw and honest.

“A  _ stupid _ jerk.” his fingers clenched around the fabric of Kyle’s robe, “With no foresight, no idea what he  _ does _ to me, just a  _ stupid _ idiotic jerk.”

Kyle reached forward, tentatively, laying a hand over Kenny’s own, his voice a scared whisper, “What does he do to you?”

There were no words.

An expression of absolute honesty and despair. Eyes that shone with an emotion Kyle had never seen so strongly in his entire life but could recognize instanously, a world of blue sparkled with violet and a passion that could move mountains.

His heart thudded to life, a familiar and terrified staccato of emotion that he was sure that Kenny’s still clenched hand could feel.

“It’s not that simple.” Kenny said finally, eyes still locked on his own.

“That’s not really an answer.” Kyle shot back.

“You were awful quick to believe your wife a liar.” Kenny deflected.

“She had, in actuality, been lying.” Kyle responded, less bitter than he’d felt all day, “But that’s not why…” he abhorred admitting weakness, the open expanse of Kenny’s eyes couldn’t be lied to though, “I was scared.”

“That’s stupid.”

“So is refusing to answer a simple question. How do you feel, honestly, about him?”

Kenny balled his fists further, “You only want to know so you can superimpose it onto your wife. You do realize we’re ultimately different people.”

Kyle finally had the upper hand. He reveled in it, momentarily, he’d never quite achieved it with her before.

“Witty,” laughter of his own, the giggles from Stan and Karen, “Smart,” assessing a situation, finding solutions, eyes always gathering information, “Strong,” the weight of a country, the agility even in the face of death with a fiery defiance.

Kyle brushed hair from what ought to be a strangers cheek.

“You’re more similar than you think.”

Kenny held his gaze, unmoving, and without daring to breathe.

“I hate that part of you.” he said, finally.

“I thought you had determined that we’re different.”

Kenny glowered, and leaned his forehead against Kyle’s shoulder in defeat, “More similar than you’d think.”

“I’m sorry.”

Kenny looked up again, confused, Kyle struggled with the words.

“When you arrived. You were injured. I--I wasn’t thinking properly. You could have died if Karen hadn’t come.”

Of all the responses he was expecting, a derisive snort wasn’t quite among them, “Don’t worry about that. Death doesn’t stick all that well to me.”

“What does that--”

“God, are you a detective in every reality? Not everything needs an answer. Calm your tits.”

The silence stretched and Kyle realized he was scared to break it, right now he had what he wanted, in a way, and he feared that words would lead to an end.

They would. Ultimately.

“Any luck figuring out who was trying to kill your wife?”

“Curse,” Kyle corrected, and shook his head, “We may have found a way to undo its effects but we still don’t know who or why.”

“Five bucks on Cartman.”

Kyle sputtered, “The Wizard King?!”

Kenny’s surprised laughter filled the room, “Oh my  _ god _ , of course that ass-wad would be something as dumb as a  _ wizard king _ , oh my god! I can’t believe you have a Cartman too.”

Kyle tried to take in the information, expression knitting, “What is your Cartman then?”

“An asshole.”

Kyle shrugged, “Okay, they’re probably similar.” Kyle considered the joking allegation, “It could be… I know he wasn’t terribly pleased with the truce…”

“It’s a place to start.” Kenny said.

The differences and similarities made his heart ache. Kenny had the same way of suggesting without claiming a direction. A different voice but a well of mannerisms that were so similar but different. His wife always had perfect posture while this man slumped with ease. They were both apparently tactile and unwilling to break a connection once it had been made. He was angry and open while she was careful and concealed. How much was true for both? Layers he’d yet to learn about her? Parts of herself she hadn’t trusted him with?

A knock on the door ended the spell and Kyle was made aware that there really was little to no distance between them.

A wave of concern crossed over him and he felt panic bloom in is chest. He’d wanted to lean forward further and close the gap entirely.

“Does this count as cheating?!” He let out, anxiety overwhelming common thought filtering processes.

Kenny couldn’t have laughed harder.

The knock grew more persistent before Gary and Stan opened the door, “Huh, guess that went well.” Stan The Unhelpful commented.

Kyle broke away, tripping up because of the missed distance between himself and the wall and nearly falling down entirely.

Gary The Very Helpful paid this no mind, “We’ve found a way to reverse the curse but we have to act quickly. The longer this lasts, the larger our margin of error grows.”

Kyle coughed uncomfortably, “Right away then. We’ll do that. Immediately. Shut up, Stan, I swear to whatever being you worship.”

Stan looked tempted to maintain his snicker. He apparently thought better of it.

Kyle very pointedly did not look at Kenny as he swept from the room, following Gary and joined shortly by Karen. He also didn’t look at her.

Oh, god, he was going to have to explain this to his wife when she returned. Oh god, what if--Kyle’s eyes widened and he whirled.

“Wait a second, you mean to tell me that the other me was confessing to you when you disappeared.”

Kenny blinked, surprised by the sudden intensity, “...Yeah?”

“And then  _ my half naked wife dropped in _ ?!”

Kenny’s eyes widened.

“Kyle  _ wouldn’t _ !” he paused, “Shit,  _ I _ might!”

Kyle wanted to deny it, desperately, but he also learned that he did not know nearly as much about his wife as he thought, he quickened his pace, “We must return things to their proper order immediately!”

Kenny jogged next to him, “Oh my god, I’m going to be  _ so pissed _ if she gets some before I do!”

“She’s you!” Kyle argued, “And she’s  _ married _ , she--she wouldn’t--probably.”

“Okay, but riddle me this asshole,  _ technically _ she just popped up next to her husband. It doesn’t  _ really _ count as cheating.”

“My  _ ass _ it doesn’t count!” Kyle raged, “I refuse to accept this--”

“Wait, so does that mean you were cheating on her with me earlier--”

“You’re the one who kissed  _ me _ \--!”

“Okay, that’s half my point dude, I’m not exactly the most trustable around stupid redheads! Also you weren’t exactly saying no--”

“ _ Noted _ ! I was surprised and--shit--I can’t help it if you were--”

Gary’s calm voice stopped the argument that was going on a bit too loud, Kyle would love to take back a few bits of it, “You guys passed our destination.”

A few of the alchemists were peeking curiously out of the lab and Kyle’s face felt quite a sum warmer than it ought to be.

Kenny had no such hesitation, he rushed to the room, “Hurry the fuck up! That hussy is probably all over him!”

“You’re that hussy though…” Karen pointed out with a laugh that was completely missed by the panicked man.

The ritual went by far quicker than anticipated. It seemed that they had waited until everything was prepared before summoning the royal couple. The only holdup was when Kenny insisted on placing his mask back on before the proceeding.

Kyle connected some dots, “...Does the other me not know who you are?”

Kenny shrugged helplessly, “If it helps, he has his suspicions.”

It seemed that it didn’t matter which reality, Kenneth McCormick had a thing for subterfuge.

Kyle’s gut dropped when tendrils of darkness reached for the man he’d barely come to know. It was the terrible knowledge that he would never meet him again. That the last time he’d seen these crawling tentacles they’d taken away someone he loved.

His heart ached to realize they were doing just that again. He prayed that brought back who he’d lost.

Kenny smiled at him, one first and final sincere smile, “Later, Kyle.”

And he was gone.

There in his place was a man of equal height and stature, strange clothes, and long hair that cascaded over her shoulders.

He was caught, struck, by the sight. A moment's hesitation and watching as Karen hugged her brother, tears dampening their cheeks.

Kyle couldn’t move.

Blue eyes roes to meet his, hesitant, scared, and holding a strength to withstand anything that was to come.

Kyle’s heart constricted and he rushed forward to wrap his arms around her.

“ _ Kenny _ .”

He’d never called her by name before. It was the first time she would hear her actual name, rather than her sisters, from his lips.

She gasped, her own arms wrapping around his middle.

“Kenny.” He squeezed, burying his face in her hair, slightly damp and smelling of an unfamiliar place.

She laughed, a watery laugh and he realized her arms were trembling even as they held him.

“Didn’t think you’d ever call me that.” Tt was her.

Her voice. Delicate and thoughtful.

It was her.

Everything.

Kyle hated himself, momentarily, with the knowledge that his heart couldn’t contain this emotion. She could very well have been lying this whole time and felt nothing for him and  _ still _ \--

“I love you.” he promised, he confessed, he prayed, “I love you.”

She made a choking sound, something like a sob, somehow a laugh.  “I love you, too.”

Stan The Stupid and Thoughtless, whooped from the peanut gallery and Kyle was made all too aware that they had an audience.

Kenny giggled into him, still refusing to let go, “Silence, Marshwalker.”

All good things must end but Kyle was still distraught to relinquish his grip even a bit, he looked into her too blue eyes, “There’s a lot we need to talk about.”

She nodded, expression a touch fearful beneath her smile, “I know.”

He shook his head, unwilling to deal with the brunt of the issue immediately. Not when he’d been so scared he lost her.

“Leave us.” The command was off-handed and he found he didn’t care if the alchemists obeyed, leaning forward and claiming her lips.

A tear fell down her cheek as she returned the action. He wiped it away and realized his own cheeks weren’t dry. Relief--love--he couldn’t choose an emotion, just that he needed to maintain proximity with Kenny.

He pulled back, just barely for breath, and knit his brow, “You didn’t kiss the other Kyle, right?”

Her laugh tickled his lips and she drew him in again, “And rob my counterpart of the opportunity? Never. I’m many things, but I wouldn’t dare commit adultery.”

“Ah…” Kyle looked away guiltily, “So… if he kissed me, does that still count?”


	4. Through Blue Eyes

When the words first escaped his throat, he almost wanted to take them back. He couldn’t help it though. They spilled out like a curse and a spell.

“I love you--”

They choked in his throat and his heart spilled over.

“I love you.”

Reaffirmed, stronger and aching.

For a man that wanted to put two shiny metal bracelets around his wrists instead of a simple band around his finger.

For a man that had no concept of time, place, or professional courtesy.

For a man that smiled at one ego and scowled at the other.

“I _love_ you.” He could have sobbed at the knowledge. Instead he gathered himself and looked up from the text message. He swore in his heart never to let the words escape again. Not to have another moment of weakness. Not to let his emotions overcome his common sense.

When the words next cascaded from his heart, through his veins, and out through his vocal cords, it was following a gentle kiss.

“Holyshit, I love you.”

Green eyes blew wide. All relationships need work but he could put it in to make this work.

He could make them work.

He was wrapped up in a hug so tight he wasn’t sure he could breathe. Or he might have lost his breath at the returned words of affection, the shower of kisses, and the smile that threatened to split Kyle’s face.

“Are you crying?”

He was. He was and it didn’t matter because he had _this_. He held Kyle’s hand to his mouth and kissed each knuckle. A promise to accompany each kiss.

_I won’t lie anymore._

_I will never let you go._

_I’ll protect you with everything I have._

_I’ll bring you happiness._

_I will always love you._

When he’d finished his mission he was met with a kiss that stole his breath all over again.

He was supposedly the outlaw but this asshole had gone and stole his heart ages ago.

**\---**

Kyle nodded at the portrait, a self-satisfied smile taking over his face. Kenny saddled up to her husband with a casual headshake.

“Was there really any meaning in having the painter make it so small?”

He turned to her with a mischievous glimmer in his eyes. She spent a moment wondering if she was having a bad influence on him or if he’d always been hiding a slightly more playful side.

“Now I can carry you with me everywhere I go,” he explained simply and she might hate him a little because he _had_ to know how that caused a flurry of movement in her heart.

“How forward,” she admonished instead, well aware her smile was giving all her inner thoughts away.

That was okay though. In this room it was just her and her husband. She slipped her hand into his unoccupied one and kissed his shoulder softly.

“I’d say you were a bit more forward,” he teased, bringing her lips up to meet his in a slow and meaningful motion.

“I want one too,” she managed between kisses.

“A picture of yourself?”

She might be forced to train him out of his mischief. It was an awfully challenging task to think past his silly banter and wonderful hands.

“A picture of you. To carry with me.” She took the time to enjoy watching his eyes sparkle at the prospect.

“I’ll have it done,” he promised, drawing her close and breathing in, “I can’t have you getting lonely.”

“Oh, I’m sure I can find a Kyle to be attentive towards me should you ever leave me to my own devices.”

Oh how she enjoyed the emotions spreading across his features. Two could be teasing, she assured with her smile.

He captured her lips again and a part of her knew that no one could fill her heart like he could.

That was perhaps why he’d done it. Sly boy.

**\---**

It was a while before he could justify it all.

Kyle knew who he was now and if that knowledge wasn’t heart-stopping enough, where they stood was also unclear. Kyle hadn’t called or texted since the incident but FBI agents hadn’t broken down his front door either.

Perhaps Kyle was just taking the time to build a case against him. Perhaps Kyle had given up on arresting him. Perhaps Kyle loved him. Perhaps that had been nothing but the drunk rambling of a confused man.

It was the confusion that finally made him crack and make the first move.

He couldn’t keep looking over his shoulder and he couldn’t keep repeating memories that could mean everything or nothing.

It was the first time he’d entered Kyle’s home through the front door.

He knocked, like a polite human instead of a midnight invader, and waited patiently for Kyle’s face to fill the doorway.

He was met with a much taller man with a perpetually bored expression.

His heart sank for a moment, to the tips of his toes, had Kyle moved? So quickly? What could that mean?

“Ike? Who’s at the door?”

Recognition finally graced Kenny’s eyes and he wondered what sort of panic could have kept him from recognizing the man sooner. He’d seen Ike Broflovski on more than one occasion at the daycare. He supposed that the man did look quite different outside of a suit but _still_.

“It’s the daycare teacher.” Ike said simply and walked away from the door. Not letting him in and not closing the door. Rude.

It was apparently merely to get out of a stampeding Kyle’s way though because a flurry of red hair and pink cheeks had rushed over and Kenny felt himself a bit short on breath.

He raised a weak hand, “H-hey.”

Why did he feel so completely helpless in the face of this stupid and ridiculous man?

“Hey.” Kyle returned through puffs for air.

“Hey.” Ike joined in, apparently solely to remind the two of them of his presence. A smart move, Kenny reflected, he was itching to do something he might regret to the FBI agent.

“Uh, wanna, come in? We’re just having dinner. I--there should be enough--” Kenny found he didn’t really have a choice in the matter because he was already being guided into the apartment while Kyle blabbered about what was on the menu.

He was okay with this. Probably.

This definitely meant that Kyle still liked him at least. Still no idea about the whole prison thing though.

Dinner would be nice if it wasn’t awkward. The conversation stilted with all the information between them that Ike couldn’t know about. They’d start a branch of information and reach leaves that were best left silent, pittering into awkward silences.

Kenny had had enough after a while and excused himself to the restroom.

He washed his face and looked into his reflection. How did he do this? Should he just leave? He’d clearly disrupted some brother thing. Would it be more rude to leave or to stay? He didn’t know. These kind of sticky social situations always gave him hives of discomfort.

His reflection offered no answers.

He wanted answers.

He frowned and looked at the hand soap.

Unthinkingly, or perhaps with too much thought, he wrote his ill-thought out message.

_Wanna go out? Y / N_

**\---**

The first time she did it, she waited at the corner of the room to spy on his reaction. An empty bed was something he had confessed to detesting so she decided that she wouldn’t leave it empty.

The expression that lit his face in the shadow of the petals laying across the soft fabric was enough to light her heart for days. He gently lifted the single daisy she’d left resting against her pillow as though it were something precious.

She hadn’t the heart for a moment to reveal herself. It was too precious a moment in time to watch her husband hug a flower to his chest but she inevitably grew jealous of the plant and demanded he wrap his arms around her as well.

From there it was an addiction.

Any time she could spare something to brighten his expression, she did so.

From a flower here and there, to delicately written notes with contents that must not be shared, she gave him what she had to give. She found a music box in town and insisted on gifting it. Then a new quill she picked out herself. At some point she went as far as to hand sew a sloppy message into a plain handkerchief.

She may have taken it a touch too far when she specifically sought out a dragon forged good luck charm that was said to protect its owner even through the afterlife.

At least, she assumed that was the last straw because it was the last object she gifted her husband before she woke up to a bedroom exploded with color.

Flowers and letters spread in a minefield of emotion. Every one of them a listed reason she was loved.

It was a while before her early brain even managed to realize there was a trail leading out of her room. Bewildered she followed the trail of petals and love.

Not a far distance away and waiting with a face full of adoration, her husband kneeled in a courtroom that contained only four.

He held in his hands an intricately designed bracelet that she suspected would fit her perfectly.

“I want you to marry me.” His voice held plea and she couldn’t help but wonder at it.

“I thought I already had.” She realized foggily that the room did in fact contain a priest. And her sister.

“Again.” He continued, still offering the object for her to take or leave, “Not for politics, not for peace, not because I am a king and you are the princess. I want you to marry me because I love you and I hope you feel the same.”

She didn’t know if she could breathe past the swirl of emotion within her. She swept forward and wrapped her arms around her husband-to-be.

“Thank you.” She breathed, perhaps for the first time.

**\---**

He hesitated.

He shouldn’t have hesitated but it was a moment where he couldn’t really help it. It was one of those picture perfect moments that frankly just didn’t happen in his life. _Except_ when they were lead-ups to his untimely demise.

So he hesitated, eyes darting about for potential danger, waiting for the other foot to drop, and there was Kyle waiting for his picture perfect kiss but it was a moment too late.

Kyle scowled, “You don’t have to force yourself.”

Oh crapbaskets, what crawled up Kyle’s ass? “It’s not that. I just…” he failed to think of an explanation that didn’t end in ‘I thought I was going to die because good things don’t happen to me’.

Kyle tsked, actually _tsked_ , looking away, “I know I’m not ‘king of the elves’--”

Oh my god. He was still on about that. Kenny couldn’t help but gape. Kyle _did_ understand they were the same person, right?

“--no one’s forcing you.”

Kenny might have lost his temper a little.

“Oh, really? Then what about you. On your bed. With a half naked princess.”

“She was fully clothed!”

“Then why did I find her dress?”

“She was--” Kyle seemed to realize this wasn’t going to end well mid-sentence, “--in my clothes.” he finished regardless.

Kenny frowned. He’d mostly thrown the princess back at him to end this insane jealousy over a guy that was _literally identical to him in most every way_ but now he was actually starting to get a bit upset.

“Uh-huh, and why was she in your clothes? What were you guys up to while me and Kingy were saving your asses?”

“Oh, so you have a nickname for him?”

“It’s an insult!” Kenny shot back.

“How is ‘kingy’ an insult?!” Kyle stood up and, uh-oh, began to pace, that was always a bad sign, “It sounds all endearing and shit! You don’t have a nickname for me.”

“I call you ‘Special Agent’ half the time!”

“That’s my title!”

Kenny might want to strangle his boyfriend, “ _So is Kingy_.”

Kyle stopped, staring blankly as his mind caught up to the stupidity of the argument and tried desperately to come up with a way to explain that it was somehow different when it kinda wasn’t, “...uh, ‘kingy’ has a ‘y’.” he managed.

“ _Fine_. I’ll call you ‘Special Agenty’.”

“That sounds insulting!”

Oh my god, spare him from jealous morons, “ _Exactly_.”

Kyle’s head did the mental math.

Finally a small ‘oh’ escaped and he looked properly abashed. Kenny felt some of the tension leave him at the sight, doing a quick mental review of the argument to make sure they’d covered all the bases.

He didn’t get very far before he started giggling uncontrollably.

“What’s so funny?” Kyle was sitting again, looking incredibly embarrassed.

Kenny snorted, unable to build a sentence around his laughter.

Kyle almost cracked a smile too, Kenny laughed harder at the sight.

“Okay, yeah, I was being dumb.”

Kenny nodded but stopped his giggles for long enough to contribute, “Nah, man. I was being petty too. I know you wouldn’t do anything inappropriate to the princess. I trust me much less than I trust you, to be honest.”

Kyle, hand snaking around Kenny’s, looked a touch puzzled, “What’s that mean?”

Kenny snorted again, “Dude. Just kiss me.”

Kyle acquisited the request.

**\---**

She smiled at the brief sensation that grazed her lips gently.

“G’mornin’.” she barely took a moment to understand her own words before her eyes sprang open.

He was looking at her with interest and she tried to school her voice to speak again. She couldn’t.

She’d, or rather, he’d spoken in the tones he reserved only for a frankness that he didn’t use around his husband.

“Huh,” Kyle murmured,before leaning forward and claiming her lips again, “Can you do that again?”

His heart stuttered and he couldn’t fight his own reaction. There wasn’t a tense bone in his body, “I dun’ know what the shit yer talkin’ about.”

Kyle laughed, it was open and free, and he nuzzled against him.

“So that’s what you sound like as a prince.” Kenny could feel a smile against the nape of his neck, “It’s cute.”

Kenny’s stomach flipped with emotion and he chuckled, deeper than he would normally allow his feminine voice to go, “I dun’ know about cute.”

He didn’t really have other words for it. He’d never shown Kyle any of his masculine side. Never quite been able to transcend that slight terror that it would be a deal-breaker.

He enjoyed living as a woman and he felt there was no need to rock the boat of their relationship with more meaningless details. The trill of anxiety made his pulse race and he wondered what could have possibly brought out the side he only ever showed Karen.

The one he trusted with his world.

It shouldn’t be shocking that he trusted his husband.

It shouldn’t.

But it _was_ and he realized that he trusted his husband with his entire world.

“You--” he admonished weakly while wrapping his arms around the king holding his heart, “--could freakin’ wreck me.”

That earned him another laugh, “Glad to know the feeling is mutual.”

**\---**

Kenny settled into the mattress. This was nice.

Kyle wouldn’t be home for another hour or so, paperwork that he was going to hear heck about later. But right now, it was nice.

Kyle’s bed was warm and fluffy, pillows that Kenny brought over to stay and a clean smell in the air and it was just heart-stoppingly nice.

He hadn’t snuck in.

He had a key.

Kyle had given him a key and permission to sleep over whenever.

And when Kyle got back from his hellishly busy job, the grumpy special agent was going to cuddle him into oblivion and Kenny couldn’t cry because it was just too much.

Could they make this work? In reality? There were still so many random obstacles. Still so many times that they argued over Kenny’s nightly activities and the dangers involved. Still too much on the line if they were ever caught.

And there were a lot of things they just kept putting pins into. There were too many fires to put out and too much work that needed urgent attention.

But right now he, and he alone, was allowed to cuddle up in Kyle’s bed and steal his shirt because that stupid hussy princess from another world had done it too and wait for some asshole FBI agent to come home all grumpy but still greet him with a kiss.

And hold him like he was precious.

And ask him about his day.

And fall asleep to the beating of another heart intermingled with his own.

He could cry.

He was crying.

A gentle finger wiped a tear away and Kenny wondered how half asleep he’d been not to hear the other enter. Kyle’s face was a shade of concern, “You okay?”

“Never better.” Kenny choked out, hands reaching up to pull Kyle down into a hug.

“Okay.” Kyle responded, hugging in return and it was a touch too real.

Kenny could _feel_ the words of affection bubbling in his throat and he needed a distraction. For himself. For the scene. Because they needed to work shit out first.

So his fingers moved down and danced along the other man's side, eliciting the sharp gasp he’d been gunning for.

“Don’t you dare--” Kyle warned.

Kenny grinned ear to ear, “Oh, I dare.”

And he began his assault.

**\---**

She loved the way he ran his fingers through her hair. Soapy hands washing away the stress of the day as her husband took his time to see to every lock of her hair.

If felt as though he was counting. A caress of emotions contained in golden tresses. She loved the way the bubbles washed away and revealed a clean restart. Whatever the following day had to offer, tonight they could rid themselves of the strains through a simple bath.

She wasn’t quite expecting to be picked up after the last of the bubbles had washed away but she welcomed it with a kiss on his nose.

“Where are you taking me now?” she whispered, for his ears only.

He still had a sud on one of his cheeks, she wiped it away mindlessly as he donned a mock-contemplative tone.

“Hm, that’s a very good question, where should I take you?”

She wrapped her arms around his neck, “I can think of a few places.”

**\---**

Kenny gaped at the car outside of the daycare.

“What the he--” he remembered the small children that loved to repeat new phrases to their parents, “Goodness gracious darling is that car doing outside our fantastic establishment.”

Red, his coworker, didn’t look up from the diaper she was changing, “Nice save.”

Despite her obvious sarcasm, he allowed himself to take the compliment, “I’m just great like that. Excuse me for a moment while I figure out what the heck my boyfriend is doing parked outside.”

Red did look up this time to give him a shit-eating grin, “I thought you didn’t want any ‘labels’ yet.”

He flushed, “We’re not--it’s just--I swear to--Red. I’m going outside. Enjoy the munchkins alone.”

And he fled before she could argue.

Kyle was out of the car before he made it outside, looking a touch anxious, “Hey, Kenny.”

“What are you doing here in the middle of the day? Is someone dead?”

Kyle gave him a look, “Why does your mind always go to the worst possible scenario.”

Kenny shrugged, “Prepare for the worst, my man. But for real though, what’s up?”

Kyle shifted, “Well, I was thinking about how you said you didn’t really have time to get lunch lately because your short-staffed at the moment and you can’t just leave the kids alone so…” Kyle pulled an actual packed lunch from his car, “I figured it couldn’t hurt?”

“Kyle.” Kenny took a step forward and stopped himself, “If my munchkins weren’t probably watching us from the window I would insist that we do the nasty on top of your car this instant.”

Kyle closed his eyes briefly, probably counting to ten for patience, Kenny grinned, “ _Some_ people just say ‘thank you’.” he said at last.

“ _Some_ people aren’t honest.” Kenny snatched the lunch, a bit scared it’d be rescinded, “Me? I know this is the sexiest thing anyone has done for me ever and you better as fuck come home from work tonight because we have _plans_ now.”

He pecked his boyfriend’s cheek and decided to say screw it to the world. He could deal with that label and he was going to enjoy the flustered expression on Kyle’s face for the rest of today.

**\---**

Kyle, not for the first time since the excursion began, patted at his hood self-consciously.

Kenny swatted his husband's hand, “Don’t mess wit’ that!” he admonished with a half smile.

Today was an incognito take on the town. An opportunity to take a look at the surrounding city without people falling all over themselves to be properly humble in front of royalty and Kenny was going to _enjoy_ it.

Perhaps he had more confidence in the matter because all he had to do was don his masculine persona and suddenly not a soul would be able to recognize him as their queen.

Kyle had more issues. A far more recognizable face and distinctive features. It would be fine though. Kenny knew for a fact that people saw what they expected to see.

If they expected to see a pair of villagers in plain clothes, that was all that would register. A crown and fancy clothes may as well be a disguise for the amount it fed into the perceptions of the public.

“Are you sure they won’t realize it’s me?”

Kenny rolled his eyes, there was only one thing to do with such a helpless boy. He kissed the disguised king’s nose and reached to tangle his fingers with his own.

“Trust me,” he assured, giggling at the cross-eyed look he was receiving, “All they’ll see is a couple very much in love. They’ll all have’ta look away in disgust after awhile if I have my way.”

He waggled his eyebrows inappropriately and used his free hand to give a royal bottom a royal squeeze.

To his delight, Kyle _yelped_ before glaring down without any real anger, “What are you thinking in public?!”

Kenny responded with a laugh. There went the nerves, just his besotted and ruffled husband.

“Come on, this’ll be fun.”

**\---**

They both stared at the critter as it made its way around the apartment.

“So, the thing that cursed the princess last time was a spider, right?”

Kenny nodded, still eyeing the creature.

“I mean, I know it’s probably a normal spider but do we _really_ wanna risk killing it?”

Kenny shrugged, “I mean. Maybe this time I’d meet a sci-fi bounty-hunter version of you with a laser gun and you’d be stuck with a cyborg version of me.”

They continued to look at the little critter.

“Yeah,” Kyle said finally, “I think our only solution here is to find a new apartment.”

Kenny giggled, “I don’t think it’s really all that dramatic.”

Smooth as fuck, Kyle pulled out his phone to look at nearby listings, “Who says it’s about the spider? We need to find a place closer to your work.”

Kenny took a long moment to process that. He _needed_ a lot of time to process that. Slowly, he cuddled against his boyfriend and pulled out his own phone, making sure search for places that accepted pets. They could get a cat or something to kill the spiders.

Kyle looked down, suddenly all nerves and absolutely ruining his smooth move, “Is that a yes?”

Kenny cuddled closer, “Figure it out, genius.”

It wasn’t like he went back to his own apartment much nowadays anyway.

**\---**

She would very much like to know who had allowed her husband to consume this much alcohol at the banquet. She was having a very unusual case of deja vu helping him back into their shared chambers.

The smell was similar to the one from that night now so long ago. A man who had too many hesitations but just as much love.

“Kenny,” he smiled the word out, as though it wasn’t just a prayer but his entire religion, “You are my sky.”

Kenny snorted, that probably sounded better to the truly inebriated brain. “Yes, and you are my stars.” She responded and realized that she actually meant it. How strange.

He frowned, brow knitting and nose scrunching adorably, “No, no, you’re the stars too.”

She couldn’t contain the laugh this time, “Really now?”

He nodded, “Yeah.. And the clouds. And the sun. And the moon.”

She nuzzled against his neck, “What are you allowed to be then?”

He considered this, face furrowed in focus as he tried to understand the world past the ale that disrupted his senses. Finally he spoke, “I’ll be the trees.”

“What makes you the trees?”

“I can’t live without the sky. I can’t grow without the sun. I can’t rest without the night. I can’t exist without you.”

Her chest constricted and she tried to find words, it was silly and slurred, but the heart behind it was honest. He believed his words completely.

She touched his face gently, “That’s not fair.”

“Why?” he sounded so utterly puzzled she could have laughed some more but instead she hid her face in his chest.

“I can’t exist without you either.” she murmured.

Arms secured her position as he kissed the top of her head, “Okay.” he conceded, voice already fading with the sirens call of sleep, “Then you’ll be Kenny and I’ll be Kyle and we’ll just stay together forever.”

Drunk Kyle was hilarious, she decided, mirthful tears eaten away by the warmth that emitted by her husband, her king, Kyle The Drunk.

“Sounds like a plan to me.”


End file.
